Disturbances
by Perry
Summary: AU after OOTP. Sevitus. Harry returns to Hogwarts for his sixth year to deal with a Death Eater Draco, strange and confusing interactions with Snape, and a new DADA professor who isn't as wonderful as everyone thinks.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I've been thinking about writing a Severitus fanfic for years, but never got around to it seeing as I had yet to finish my initial foray into fanfiction. Having finally accomplished that feat, I decided, why the heck not? Might as well give it a go and maybe it won't take me 12 years to finish. No promises though. That being said, here it is. Perhaps it is more of a Sevitus. I don't know. Whatever. Either way, it's a Harry is Snape's son story. Good luck to you all.

Summary: AU after OOTP. Harry returns to Hogwarts for his sixth year to deal with a Death Eater Draco, strange and confusing interactions with Snape, and a new DADA professor who isn't as wonderful as everyone thinks.

Warnings: Potential (I'm sort of writing this as I go, so you just don't know, do you?) descriptive violence, language, abuse, and non-con/rape.

***This chapter does contain rape. It's not graphic or descriptive, but it is there. Please do not read if it bothers you.**

* * *

Disturbances

Chapter 1

October 1979

Lily struggled in vain against the Death Eaters holding her arms. The fear and anger she felt was slowly overtaken by regret. Why hadn't she told James? She didn't plan on following any Death Eaters when she left the house this morning. She only meant to take a quick visit to Knockturn Alley to collect some more questionable ingredients for the Order's potions supply. They weren't dark items necessarily, but they wouldn't be found at a normal apothecary.

The Death Eater on her left wrenched her shoulder back, causing her to briefly stop struggling and suck in a deep breath, pain burning in her arm. Macnair, she guessed, due to his overall size and the slight chuckle he let out at her expense. She had put on a particularly strong glamour before arriving at Knockturn Alley, and thankfully it held. They had no idea who she was, only that a small brown-haired woman with squinty eyes and an upturned nose had been following Dolohov through several shops. Unfortunately, he hadn't been alone, and Lily was grabbed from behind as a silencing charm hit her in the back and a hood was thrown over her head.

Now she was here, feeling foolish for her actions. She should have sent a message to James as soon as she saw Dolohov. Now they wouldn't even know she was missing for hours at least. James was meeting with Moody today to discuss their next course of action. He'd be gone for quite some time, possibly through the night. And here she was wandless and feeling increasingly vulnerable.

The hood was whipped off her head and Lily squinted in the dim light of the room. Her heart sunk as she saw the figure in front of her. Voldemort. A new wave of terror hit her. She didn't think she would be important enough to bring before the Dark Lord. She figured she'd deal with a couple of his followers and that gave her hope of escape. But now that hope was fading fast.

Voldemort's lip was pulled up in a snarl, annoyance clear on his face, "Why did you think I would care about a worthless woman following you about?"

The Death Eater on her right spoke up, voice quaking, "My Lord, we thought she might be part of the Or-"

"Do you think I have time for this!?"

The man fell silent, clenching his jaw.

"I do not care about insignificant members of the Order! I need Dumbledore! Moody! Someone of value." He spit out the last word, voice falling dangerously low. "Why haven't you brought them to me? It makes me question your usefulness."

"My Lord-"

"_Crucio_."

The Death Eater who had spoken fell to the ground writhing and screaming. Voldemort turned to his side, waving his hand to summon someone forward. Lily realized there were several more Death Eaters in the shadows of the dim room. Her heart stopped as she saw Severus Snape step into the light. She tried to keep her face blank, but tears threatened her vision. It had been so long and guilt clawed at her throat. Severus looked worse than she remembered, skin somehow paler, emphasizing dark circles under his eyes. She noticed he stood tall though, showing no fear in front of Voldemort.

"Severus," Voldemort all but purred, "I feel I should reward you for your loyalty. Your skills have shown to be most important to our cause."

Severus' face appeared unchanged, but Lily recognized the slight twitch beneath the mask. She breathed out. She thought abandoning him would force him to see what was right, but she had been wrong. She chose James and foolishly thought it had to be a choice at all. She wished she had realized that at the time.

"My Lord," Severus spoke, "the cause itself is reward enough. But I graciously accept any gift you bestow upon me. It honors me greatly."

"Of course Severus." Voldemort fixed his gaze upon Lily and she avoided his eyes, afraid he might see something in them. Recognize she was not as insignificant as he assumed. "I give you this woman. Use her, then dispose of her. The side chamber is available for you."

Snape stood unmoving, looking at the small woman in front of him. Lily met his eyes, observing the internal struggle warring behind them.

"Of course, Severus, I could offer her to Macnair instead, if you do not think this reward worthy," Voldemort said. His tone was light but his stare was cold.

"Forgive me, My Lord. This is a most pleasing gift."

Snape strode to Lily and took her arm, forcefully pulling her away from Macnair and shoving her towards a door on her right.

"Also Severus, Lucius will be watching to ensure you enjoy yourself." With that Voldemort turned and left. Snape paused briefly then continued forward, dragging Lily through the door with him, Lucius close at their heels.

Snape had discovered rather quickly his mistake in joining the ranks of the Dark Lord. Perhaps he had known all along he was heading in the wrong direction, but ever since he lost his best and only friend, he didn't much care. He wanted to have purpose. He wanted others to look at him with respect. And he wanted to make Potter and Black pay. It didn't take long for him to realize he was the one paying instead.

Now here he was, with this "gift" from the Dark Lord, having to take yet another action that would shame him for the rest of his life. He looked at the woman, standing defiantly in front of him. She was rather nondescript, but something in her eyes seemed vaguely familiar.

Lucius sidled up beside him, smirking. "Well, Severus, if you aren't going to get on with it, perhaps I should take advantage of this opportunity." He stepped up to the woman, still smiling, and put his hand up to her breast. She immediately swung her palm up towards his nose. Unfortunately, Lucius anticipated the action, grabbing her wrist before it could connect. He twisted her arm around behind her back with a sharp jerk. A small cry escaped her mouth. "Now that isn't the way to treat a gentleman," he sneered, then proceeded to slap her across the face, knocking her to the ground.

"Enough." Snape placed his hand on Lucius' shoulder and pulled him away. "The Dark Lord did not give her to you."

Lucius frowned and walked back to stand next to the door. "Then by all means, enjoy her Severus. Or I'll let our Lord know you didn't approve of his gift." He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and wand hanging loosely in hand.

Snape grit his teeth. The temptation to curse Lucius was strong, but he couldn't. He had been going through his options as soon as Voldemort summoned him forward. His heart sank when Lucius had been sent along with him, destroying any means of deception. Lucius was a pompous arse, but he was by no means weak or foolish. He trusted no one and never let his guard down.

He picked the woman off the ground, pushing her against the wall opposite Lucius and attempting to block her from view. She tensed then began struggling against Snape. Snape muttered a charm and her entire body relaxed, arms falling to her sides. He saw the fear well up in her eyes and wondered if she could see the guilt in his.

It didn't take long and Snape despised every second. The woman's eyes had gone blank. He felt disgust for himself and hatred for the Dark Lord fill his chest. He murmured the counter for the charm, giving the woman control of her limbs again, but she just slumped against the wall. He held her up by the arms, turning to Lucius.

"I will take her to my place to dispose of her."

Lucius frowned, "Why not be done with it now Severus?" One side of his mouth twitched up into a smirk. "Or have you fallen in love? I'm sure it's been quite some time for you after all."

Snape sneered, "Though I wouldn't expect your small mind to fully comprehend, there are certain dark potions that require ingredients such as blood from a living witch or wizard, among other parts of the body. If you would like to inform the Dark Lord that you kept me from brewing potions that will aid in his cause, then by all means, do what you want with her."

Lucius' frown returned. "I will let the Dark Lord know to expect such potions in the near future," he spat, annoyance written across his face, then left, slamming the door behind him.

Snape adjusted his hold on the woman, turning on the spot with a pop.

* * *

Lily felt hollow. She knew it wasn't her fault, but she couldn't help wishing she'd been smarter in Knockturn Alley. She wasn't angry with Severus. In fact, she was having trouble feeling very much at all.

Severus had apparated them into a dingy alley. It looked to be somewhere near the outskirts of muggle London.

"Are you alright?" The tone was stiff. Lily looked up at him. She wasn't in the least bit okay, but she knew it easily could have been Lucius or worse. And she wouldn't be standing here alive.

"I'll survive."

Snape nodded, glancing around. "Are you able to apparate?"

Lily nodded back. Snape took his hands from her arms and stepped back, about to leave. "Wait," Lily found herself saying. In that moment she desperately wanted to reveal herself. Take off the glamour and try to bring Severus back to their side. To her side.

Snape shot her a confused look. "I-," she stuttered. "I don't blame you. I know you saved my life."

Snape stared at her as she stood, biting her lip. After what seemed like several minutes, he finally spoke. "You should blame me." Then he turned on the spot and vanished.

* * *

Exactly one month later, Lily found herself again in Knockturn Alley with yet another glamour, buying more semi-illegal potions ingredients. This time she kept her head low and made her visit quick.

She returned home to an empty house at Godric's Hollow. James had just left on a mission the previous night and would be gone for the week if all went according to plan. Which it rarely did.

Lily sighed as she began to set up the cauldron in their kitchen. She and James had been trying for a baby for several months. Their attempts had decreased significantly as time went on. The war continued to take it's toll and when one of them wasn't away for an extended period of time, they were both too tired to do anything but sleep. But Lily was pregnant anyway. And too her overwhelming dismay, it wasn't James' son. She knew with the timing, there was a chance, but she performed the paternity charms anyway, hoping her instincts were wrong. They never were.

She had a choice to make, knowing she wouldn't be the only one affected by the consequences. Her child would probably feel them more so than herself. She never told anyone what happened to her that day. Not even James. She knew she should, but the thought brought only shame. She should tell him now, especially since this wasn't his child. But what if he recognized Severus in the features? Would he be able to love the child of his enemy, of a man who had forced himself on his wife? She forgave Severus, but James would not have that ability.

She considered talking to Dumbledore, but he was heading up a war. She didn't want to add more worries to his list. Perhaps when it was all over, if it ever ended, she would confide in him.

So Lily had made her decision, realizing it might be a terrible one. She knew many charms that could change appearance, and in combination with certain potions, could have a more permanent effect. It had taken several days to find the right potion, and thankfully she was quite adept at both subjects because it was a very difficult process. The brewing lasted the whole day, the sun setting as she finished the words of the final charm over the clockwise stir of the potion. She was done. She poured it into a bottle, holding up the murky teal concoction before her. Suddenly she wasn't sure. Then she thought of Voldemort and his claim to every Death Eater child.

She downed the potion in one swallow.

* * *

A/N: There you have it. Yet again, I've only partially planned this story. So who knows where it will end up. Lucky for you, I've already written the next chapter. Onward!


	2. Chapter 2

Disturbances

Chapter 2

July 31, 1996

Harry couldn't sleep. And though it was a relief to say it wasn't the nightmares this time, the cause wasn't much better. He had awoken that morning to a burning ache in his body.

'Happy Birthday to me,' Harry mumbled to himself. He spent half the day imagining his bones slowly splintering off into thousands of shards digging against his skin, then immediately tried to shake the image, fearing it might be a correct assessment.

His usual chores in the garden did little to distract him from the pain, but at least they didn't exacerbate it any further. It was a constant ache, never once changing in intensity and by that evening, Harry was beginning to feel slightly nervous. At first he tried to explain it away as some sort of weird growing pains, but those wouldn't last a whole day. At least he didn't think so. As he was lying in bed, trying to ignore the hurt, he wondered if he'd been cursed. Perhaps Voldemort had figured out a way past the wards. He found that highly unlikely though. Vernon was on a work trip this week, but Petunia and Dudley remained in the house. And if anything had happened, no doubt the Order would have shown up on his doorstep by now.

He should probably send a message to Dumbledore. But what if he woke up tomorrow and it was gone? Then he'd feel really stupid. And with his luck, Snape would find out about the message and have even more reason to believe he was an arrogant snot wasting valuable time with complaints about a few growing pains.

Thinking about Snape was a welcome distraction, though he realized he'd been doing it a lot lately. The man confused him. It didn't take long into the summer holidays for him to recognize that Snape had probably alerted the Order as to where Harry and his friends had run off to at the end of term. He didn't want to accept it, he wanted to blame Snape. He wanted to hate Snape as he always had. The man tormented him on a daily basis. Yet then he turned around and saved him at every opportunity. Harry couldn't understand it. The memory in the pensieve explained some of it. He would probably dislike Dudley's son. Or Malfoy's. Especially if they were a carbon copy of their fathers. But he wouldn't go so far as to humiliate and degrade them.

Thinking about the pensieve incident made his stomach turn. He wanted his father to have been a better person. And Sirius. Then he wondered if he had grown up with them, instead of the Dursleys, would he be a bully too? He had to believe his father changed, realized his error. Otherwise, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to think of him fondly ever again. But Remus had said they were young and foolish. People make mistakes. Harry knew that all too well. He had been such an idiot last year. He didn't listen to anyone. He didn't want to believe his visions were tricks. He acted without considering the options, and now Sirius was dead and his friends had been hurt. He knew it wasn't entirely his fault, everyone made their own choices, but his played a big part.

Harry shifted around in bed, trying to get comfortable. Maybe he should apologize to Snape? As much as he disliked the man, he had a sense of respect for him. The idea of spying on Voldemort was a terrifying prospect Harry couldn't even begin to imagine. And Dumbledore wouldn't trust someone unless he had a good reason. As much as Harry didn't want to admit it, Snape's opinion of him hurt. It bothered him that the man thought so little of him. He probably imagined Harry laughing over the memory he had seen. Harry wanted him to know that he hadn't told anyone. That he very much wasn't laughing. That he understood.

Harry sat up. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well be productive. He grabbed some parchment and ink and began to write. He wished he could see Snape's face when he received a letter from Harry. He'd probably want to throw it in the fire. But Harry knew he would have to read it, in case it was important Order information. Or he was in trouble. Though Harry contacting Snape first in an emergency was highly laughable. Snape was probably near the bottom of his list for those he'd ask for help.

Harry sighed, feeling more serious as he started to write. He hoped Snape would recognize his sincerity, though he mostly doubted it. Harry felt a bit anxious at the thought. When had Snape's opinion begun to matter to him? Maybe it was after he saw his memories and considered the fact that there was more to Snape then Harry's hatred had let him see. Not that Harry liked the guy or anything that drastic. Years of caustic remarks during potions were hard to erase, among other run-ins. But Harry was determined to make the right choices this year. Snape was an important member of the Order and despite everything, he was on Harry's side. Harry needed to stop acting like a child.

He kept the letter short, afraid Snape might not have the patience to read much of what Harry had to say. He sealed it carefully and took Hedwig out of her cage. He had kept her close by for most of the summer, in case of an emergency, but he figured he might as well send his letter now. The Order was supposedly checking up on him every other day anyway. And he needed Snape to read his apology. His anxiety over the matter increased while he was writing.

He opened his window, sending Hedwig on her way with a whispered thanks, then settled back into bed. The ache continued and Harry wished he had thought to take some dreamless sleep potion with him before leaving Hogwarts. He was sure Madame Pomfrey would have provided at least one bottle after what happened at the Ministry. Harry's mind drifted and he remembered Vernon would be back the following day. He had rather enjoyed the slightly more relaxing week without him. Hopefully he had a successful trip, otherwise Harry would bare the brunt of the consequences. He didn't look forward to days without food or the possibility of being locked in his room. Harry sighed, twisting the blanket between his fingers. One month down, one to go. Harry hoped it would go by fast.

* * *

"Severus, how nice of you to join us!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together, a smile lighting up his face. Snape rolled his eyes and sat down at the table next to the headmaster. He picked up a mug of coffee, downing half, before speaking.

"Albus, you know I like to spend my holidays brewing without the interruption of incompetent students who can't take two steps without causing some sort of disorder." He finished off the rest of his coffee and grabbed the Daily Prophet.

"I understand Severus. Though we will always be glad of your company." Snape scowled as Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. He hoped he would die before his eyes did anything similar to that blasted sparkling.

Dumbledore's mouth drew down and the lines on his face tightened as his thoughts shifted. "I am glad for the quiet of the last month, however I admit to a feeling of foreboding."

Snape nodded, tossing the newspaper back down. "The Dark Lord has only summoned me once this summer. I do not fit into his plans to further infiltrate the Ministry, and with Potter at his relatives, there's not much he can do. I am more worried about Draco."

Dumbledore looked away. "Draco will do anything Tom asks. We both know he believes fully in the cause, what with Lucius' influence."

"Yes, Albus, but he's still just a boy. If I could somehow convince him to let me help-"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "You know, as well as I, that Draco is a stubborn and prideful individual. He will want to do this on his own. You can talk to him, but don't push him too far. However, you might contact Lucius. Draco would confide in him above anyone else."

Snape frowned, knowing Dumbledore was right. The Dark Lord would undoubtedly assign his youngest and newest recruit an impossible task, just for the pleasure of punishing him when he failed. "We can guess that whatever the task, it will most likely affect Hogwarts in some way." Dumbledore nodded his assent. "We will keep a close eye on him Severus. For now, that is all we can do."

An owl flew towards Snape, interrupting the conversation as a letter knocked the toast off his plate. He glared at the bird, then immediately recognized the snowy owl as Potter's. He looked down at the letter, expecting to see Albus' name on the front, figuring the bird had made a mistake. He frowned in confusion at the untidy scrawl of _'Professor Snape'_.

"Young Harry has sent you a letter! That's very kind of him Severus. Perhaps he has a question about potions." Dumbledore looked like Christmas had come early and Snape was tempted to hold the letter up to his face and rip it to shreds.

"Potter has yet to turn in any sort of satisfactory summer assignment in his five years. I highly doubt he would show any initiative now. I do not believe him capable. This will be a rant, blaming me for the mutt and his own incompetency at clearing his mind." The urge to burn the letter became greater the longer Snape stared at it. He had already wrinkled it in his grasp.

"Now Severus," Dumbledore looked grim, "I have told you time and again to give Harry a chance. He must trust you and you've done very little to earn that trust."

"The boy is a fool Albus. He's too caught up in himself, strutting around and getting into constant trouble, not thinking once about his own safety or the safety of others for that matter! I've saved him time and again, more than enough to earn his trust I would think. But has he acknowledged that fact even once? No. He is too busy soaking up the praise from his admiring fans." The scraping of Snape's chair echoed across the hall as he abruptly stood. "If you'll excuse me Albus, I have more work to do."

"Of course, Severus." Dumbledore watched Snape stalk away, feeling weary. He did note, however, that Snape kept the letter firmly grasped in his hand.

* * *

Snape threw down the ladle he was using to stir a potion. It clanked loudly on the table and fell to the floor.

"Blasted Potter!" Snape glared at the botched potion. He couldn't concentrate. The letter sat unopened on his desk. He sighed loudly and went to pick it up. He wanted to toss it, unread, into the fireplace. The satisfaction of seeing the parchment burn would do wonders for his now awful mood. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. As much as he highly doubted it, the boy might need help. Why on earth he would contact Severus for said help was beyond his comprehension.

He ripped open the letter, scowling at the messy writing. At least he could write a scathing reply to cheer himself up afterwards.

_Dear Professor, _

_I would like to apologize for my actions this past year. It was thoughtless and disrespectful of me to look into your pensieve. I know you think I'm like my father and that I enjoyed what I saw, but I didn't. _  
_I'm sorry I didn't try harder with Remedial Potions either. I thought I could help somehow, if I knew more. Obviously I was wrong and people were hurt because of it._  
_I'm sorry if this disturbed your holidays._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

Snape tapped his foot on the ground. He was conflicted. He wanted very badly to accuse the boy of lies and send back a reply reprimanding him for his actions, but every time he reached for a quill, he stopped himself. He could feel the distasteful beginnings of guilt niggling at the back of his mind. He didn't like the possibility of misjudgment.

Snape growled. The boy was wise enough to keep the letter short and to the point as well, which somehow only served to anger him more. He paced back and forth in front of his desk, annoyed at the brat for causing him to feel so flustered. Snape did not fluster. Ever. Now he was questioning his attitude towards Potter and that was unacceptable. The boy was just like his father, always had been and always would be. But his mind betrayed him, flashing back to the brief glimpses of memories he'd seen during the disastrous Occlumency lessons.

Snape stopped pacing and sat heavily in his chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He had only seen flashes of the boy's memories of his relatives. A dog chasing him up a tree, something about hiding in a cupboard, and the possibility of someone swinging a pan at him. He had purposely allowed the visions to remain blurry, not examining them closely enough to see what was happening. He allowed his annoyance with the brat to guide his actions, pushing his brief curiosity away in favor of his belief of a ridiculously spoiled child.

The letter was still in his hand, taunting him. Snape had no intention of replying, but he decided he would speak to the boy at the start of term and assess the sincerity behind his apology in person. It was also an excellent opportunity to take away points from Gryffindor because the brat had indeed disturbed his holidays. Snape smirked at the thought, feeling slightly better. He stood and moved towards the ruined potion. He had more pressing matters to deal with at the moment, such as creating potions for the Dark Lord that would do the least damage, but maintain his place in the inner circle. Snape tossed the letter aside. Potter could wait.

* * *

Harry was in shock. At least he assumed that's what it was as he sat on the cold tile of the kitchen floor. He wondered briefly if he should move or hide or something, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to do anything except stare at his uncle's red, sweaty face.

He had awoken that morning to the disappointing continuance of pain. However, it was slightly duller, so he figured it would probably disappear all together in a day or two. The morning had progressed normally, with Petunia handing him a list of chores and Dudley ordering him around for more sandwiches and making sure to accidentally shove him into the wall several times. But then Vernon returned home.

Harry was in the kitchen cleaning the sink when he heard the door slam open and the heavy footsteps of his Uncle stomping into the entryway. His heart dropped. He glanced at the pantry, wondering if he had time to shove some food into his mouth before Vernon locked him in his room.

"_Petunia_!" Vernon roared, as hurried footsteps came down the stairs.

"Vernon darling, what is it? What's wrong?"

Harry jumped at the sound of Vernon throwing his suitcase to the floor. "Where's the boy?" Vernon growled. Harry froze.

"He's in the kitchen. What happened dear?"

Harry heard Vernon storming through the house towards him. His breathing sped up and he suddenly felt very cold as a memory washed over him. It wasn't his though, it was Snape as a little boy, cowering in front of his father. Harry didn't have time to move as Vernon barged into the room, a look of insane fury in his eyes.

"You," he pointed a shaking finger at Harry, "This is your fault." Harry backed up against the counter as Vernon came closer.

"I-I didn't do anything Uncle Vernon, I-" Harry stuttered.

"Shut up _freak_!" Vernon bellowed, eyes bulging and spittle flying. "We let you into our home and raise you as one of our own. And this is how you repay us?" Harry could smell the alcohol on his breath, and he tried to think of something that would calm him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't do anything, I swear!" Harry stared horrified as his Uncle continued to take heaving breaths in front of him. Then suddenly Harry was on the floor, a ringing in his ears and a sharp pain in his temple. His uncle had punched him. Harry sat, holding his hand up to his face. Vernon had always slapped him around a bit, but he'd never hit him. He'd been rough, but never violent.

Petunia stepped into the kitchen, mirroring Harry's shocked look. "Vernon." She reached to touch his arm, but he swung around.

"Get out Petunia." Harry saw fear in her eyes as she hesitated, then left, not once meeting Harry's gaze.

Vernon turned back to Harry. "I lost my job boy. Are you happy?" Harry shook his head quickly, scooting backwards on the floor. "And it's all your fault, with your freak...magic!"

Harry's back hit the refrigerator, blocking his retreat. He glanced around for something to defend himself, but saw nothing. All the knives and pans were on the opposite side of the kitchen, blocked by Vernon's bulky mass. Harry thought of his wand upstairs, he could make a run for it. The brief thought of another inquiry trial for underage magic made him pause, but his fear took precedence. Harry stood slowly, using the fridge as support and keeping his eyes on Vernon. His uncle was much to close for comfort, but he didn't have any other choice. He made his decision and turned, darting towards the dining room.

He had only taken two steps when he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt, pulling him sharply. He fell hard onto his back, head bouncing on the ground. He didn't have time to react when Vernon's foot connected with his stomach, taking his breath away. Harry curled in on himself, trying to suck in air. Vernon leaned down, grabbing his bicep and roughly jerking Harry to his feet. Harry swayed, the pain in his head and stomach increasing at the abrupt movement.

"You need to learn boy," Vernon spit into his face. "You need to learn what a freak you are."


	3. Chapter 3

Disturbances

Chapter 3

Harry sat down heavily in the empty compartment. He felt he should be relieved that the summer was finally over, but instead there was a ball of dread coiled tightly in his stomach. He knew the thought of returning to the Dursley's next year would weigh more heavily on him than usual. He had considered telling Dumbledore during his time spent locked in his room, but a feeling of shame came over him at the thought. He had already caused enough trouble as it was, if he didn't go back he'd probably end up getting whomever he stayed with instead killed.

Vernon spent the rest of the summer drinking. He hadn't hit Harry's face again after that first punch, probably because he knew the Order was checking up on him occasionally. Instead he aimed for places that could be covered by clothing. Harry felt he should be thankful the beatings only occurred a few times, it could have been much worse, though Vernon's "goodbye" was something Harry never wanted to repeat. He couldn't lean against the back of the seat without grimacing in pain.

He rested his head against the window. Ron and Hermione would find him soon. Vernon had dropped him off at the station earlier than usual and luckily the barrier was open. Only a few other families were on the platform, saying their farewells. Harry sighed as he thought about the upcoming feast and the fact that he'd have to see Snape. The man never replied to his letter and Harry now felt embarrassed about the whole situation. Of course Snape wouldn't give two shits what Harry had to say. Snape never liked Harry and Harry felt like an idiot for believing he could somehow make up for 5 years of dislike with a ridiculous letter.

Harry pulled away from the window abruptly as tears threatened his eyes. He quickly blinked them away, surprised that Snape could upset him in that way. He figured it was the stress from the summer. He hadn't eaten much the past month either, let alone slept soundly. Any little noise woke him, thinking it might be Vernon coming into his room for a "lesson". The nightmares from Voldemort had stopped, but new nightmares took their place featuring his uncle, and after the other night, his belt.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted as the door to the compartment slid open and Hermione walked in, followed by Ron who was complaining loudly about one of the Slytherin's tripping him on the platform.

"Harry!" Hermione smiled brightly as she gave him a hug. Harry tried not to wince and returned a genuine smile. Ron slapped him on the shoulder, giving a brief, "Hey mate!", causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

"So Harry," she smiled gently, "was your summer alright? We understand why the Order didn't want us sending too many letters, but we were worried about you."

"Yeah mate," Ron interjected, "We thought you might die from boredom at the Dursleys."

Harry grinned, trying to think of how he might have answered last year. "You know, it was the usual. Chores and enduring Dudley's whining and all that." They nodded and he added, "Only one more summer to go though."

"And then you can spend all your summers with us Harry," Ron stretched his arms across the back of the seat. "Just think, quidditch for days on end."

Hermione hit him on the chest, "Ron, you won't be playing quidditch for days on end because you'll be getting a job. You really need to start thinking about your future, we only have two years left. N.E.W.T.s are coming up and I hope you both start taking your studies more seriously."

Harry drifted off as his friends began to bicker. It felt good to be with them again. He didn't want to think about his future though, because it wasn't looking very promising. The prophecy was his future now and he didn't believe it would end well, especially if last year was anything to go by. The duel between Voldemort and Dumbledore overwhelmed Harry. He was nowhere near powerful or skilled enough to defeat the kind of magic he'd seen.

Harry watched Ron and Hermione, unsurprised that they were still arguing. He would tell them about the prophecy eventually, just not yet. He wanted to enjoy his reunion with his friends, they could deal with the other stuff later. He had already spent his whole summer trying to recover from Sirius' death and his mistakes. He wanted to have fun before returning to the reality of his life.

"Harry." He was startled out of his musings by Hermione's stare. "Did you do something different to your hair?"

Harry frowned. He hadn't really paid attention to what was in the mirror this summer, not wanting to see the bruises. "Uh, no. Why?"

Ron was looking now too. "It does look different. A little calmer than normal." Harry reached up and touched his hair. It did seem to be lying flatter.

"It's also darker," Hermione added.

Harry shrugged, "I don't know. I didn't do anything. Maybe it's just from getting older. I did have a lot of growing pains this summer."

Hermione looked contemplative, but nodded, "I think my father's hair got darker as he got older too. It must just be genetics."

Harry agreed, but didn't mention that for the amount of growing pains he had, he didn't seem to be a whole lot taller.

They spent the rest of the ride talking about Ron and Hermione's summers and playing a few rounds of Exploding Snap. Harry hadn't realized how much time had passed until they arrived at the station and suddenly he felt extremely nervous. Why had he contacted Snape? Why? It was such a stupid idea!

He dragged behind the others as they boarded the carriages. He didn't look up until they started moving and saw two younger Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff riding with them. They stared at him rather obviously and Harry wondered just how much of his last adventure had made it into the Daily Prophet.

Hermione touched his arm lightly, "Are you okay, Harry?"

Harry bit his lip, "I did something stupid this summer." Hermione drew her brow together, but didn't say anything. Ron was listening now too. "I may have written a letter to Snape."

"What?!" Ron looked completely shocked. "Are you mental? Snape?!"

Hermione hit him again, "Shush, Ron!"

Harry sighed, "For some reason I thought I should apologize for not trying harder at Remedial Potions and some other stuff. But apparently I wasn't thinking because I sent a bloody letter to Snape."

Ron paled, "Did he write back?"

"No. He's probably furious I disturbed him during the summer. He'll definitely find some way to deduct points from Gryffindor, which will be a lovely way to start of the year. Earning negative points for our house." Harry glared at one of the Ravenclaws and they squeaked, turning their gaze away.

"Whoa mate," Ron held up his hands, "Don't make that face. You look like Snape."

Harry grimaced, slouching back in his seat and tried to ignore the burning from his back.

They arrived at the castle and made the trek up the lawn to the front entrance. Harry was beginning to see spots in his vision and prayed silently that he wouldn't faint, creating a repeat of third year. Draco would love that.

"Well, look who it is, Potty and friends." Speak of the devil.

Harry didn't want to deal with this now. He wanted to get to the Great Hall, sit down, eat some food, then go to sleep. He turned to look at Malfoy, sidling up beside him, Pansy Parkinson hanging on his arm. Harry was greatly disappointed to see Malfoy had grown taller over the summer and unfortunately smugger. Harry cursed his short stature.

"Have a good summer Scarhead?" Malfoy drawled.

"Sure, Draco." Harry allowed himself a small smile as the use of the name threw Malfoy. He quickly recovered, grabbing Harry by the arm. Ron stepped next to Harry, glaring. Malfoy only spared him a brief glance before turning back to Harry.

"You're not all that Potter. The Dark Lord is coming for you and you won't get away this time." He let go and stepped back, smirking, "Better watch yourself." Then he continued off towards the castle, Pansy laughing next to him.

"Whatever, ferret boy," Harry murmured.

"That prat! He better watch _him_self!" Ron's face was red.

Hermione started walking, pulling them both with her. "There's no point in indulging him Ron. He just wants to get a rise out of you."

Ron looked at her, "That's right. You both don't know. Malfoy's a Death Eater now."

"What?" Harry was shocked, "Isn't he kind of young?"

Hermione frowned, still pulling them along. "Malfoy maybe be an immature jerk most of the time, but he gets good grades. He's not stupid."

"Says you," Ron muttered.

Hermione ignored him, continuing, "He's in Slytherin for a reason. They're cunning. We shouldn't underestimate him, especially if Voldemort is giving him orders now."

Harry nodded, "You're right Hermione. We'll keep an eye on him."

Harry sighed in relief, having finally arrived in the Great Hall. He said hello to Neville and Ginny, and waved at a few more of his friends sitting further down the table. He glanced briefly up at the Head Table, immensely glad to see Snape occupied in conversation with the man to his right. He quickly sat down, for once feeling zero excitement for the sorting, wanting only for the feast to start. He had a few sweets on the train, but his stomach was growling loudly.

"I wonder if that's the new Defense professor." Harry looked up, realizing Hermione was referring to the man talking to Snape. Harry watched the conversation, noting Snape's complete disinterest and annoyance.

"I'm guessing so," he replied, "Snape seems to dislike him."

"Snape dislikes everyone," Ron piped in.

"True." Harry continued to watch the two professors. The other man appeared rather friendly, his eyes crinkling with his smile as he discussed whatever it was with Snape. Apparently Snape's scowl did nothing to throw him.

"He's rather attractive," Hermione mused.

"Oh Merlin, no." Ron threw his hands in the air, "I will not have another Gilderoy Lockhart. One is enough for a lifetime!"

Harry fervently agreed while Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just because he's handsome does not mean he's a fake. Besides, he looks way more genuine than Lockhart."

Ron sighed in disgust, "Well, he better know his stuff, otherwise we're screwed. Again." He continued to grumble on about incompetent DADA professors and Harry couldn't blame him. He hoped the man knew what he was doing too. They couldn't afford to lose another year of lessons in defense with Voldemort rising in power.

He glanced up at the head table again, this time meeting Snape's gaze. Harry immediately looked away, feeling his face grow hot. Why had he sent that bloody letter? Harry didn't know how he'd survive potions now. He had a feeling he would be doing worse than usual this year, which was saying a lot.

Harry was relieved when the sorting finally started and he spent most of it trying not to look at Snape while simultaneously trying not to faint from hunger and exhaustion. He didn't hear very much of Dumbledore's speech, only coming out of his haze enough for the introduction of Professor Bernard Thornback. The man next to Snape stood, waving and smiling gently. Apparently he had taught at Beauxbatons for several years and wanted to return to Hogwarts where he'd attended school himself as a Ravenclaw. Harry thought that boded well for his potential as a professor, and even Ron seem to begrudgingly agree.

Dumbledore finished the rest of his speech and Harry almost cried when his plate filled up with food. The anxiety that had plagued him the entire summer finally melted a little as he began to eat. Thank Merlin he was home.

* * *

The year was not starting off well. The Headmaster had only just informed Snape the previous day as to the identity of the new DADA professor and Snape actually groaned out loud in response. Thornback had been at Hogwarts with Snape, one year behind him, and his presence was insufferable. For whatever reason, Snape had the distinct pleasure of incurring Thornback's advances beginning in his 6th year and lasting halfway through his 7th, when Thornback finally realized Snape would never be interested. He had cursed his pursuer with a rather fitting spell, and one for which Snape knew he would not seek help to reverse.

Now here he was, sitting next to the very man he hoped to never set eyes upon again.

"Severus! It's been ages!" Snape sneered as the man's blue eyes twinkled, rather maliciously in his opinion. He had already been graced with the pleasure of hearing the other professors fawn over the man at the faculty meeting earlier in the day. He'd managed to avoid Thornback then, but apparently his luck couldn't hold out.

"Thornback." Snape grabbed his goblet and swallowed a rather large amount of wine. Thornback took his own goblet, clinking it against the side of Snape's after he lowered it from his mouth.

"Still taking without permission, I see," Snape ground out, hand now clenched around his dinner knife.

Thornback laughed merrily, slapping a hand on Snape's back, "Don't think I haven't forgotten that spell you put on me Severus. It was 6 months before I could get the old dog back into action again."

Snape gave the hand on his back a pointed look, and Thornback continued to smile, slowly removing his hand, but not before sliding it down Snape's back.

Snape was furious and he turned his most terrifying smile upon the man, "If you touch me ever again, I will slip you a potion that will ensure your _old dog_ never performs again. There will be no evidence and no cure. So I would advise you, Thornback, to take your advances elsewhere."

Thornback's smile faltered, but he chuckled lightly, "No need for the dramatics Severus, you only had to ask. I won't bother you again."

Thornback mercifully turned to Professor Sinistra on his opposite side and began conversing with her. Snape felt relieved to have cut off Thornback's advances before they could go any further. The man was intelligent enough to know Snape wasn't lying. He had, in fact, already brewed the aforementioned potion that day, just in case.

Snape turned his focus to the Slytherins, taking note that Draco seemed, if possible, more pompous than usual. Snape was not looking forward to dealing with the boy's attitude this year. He was sure Draco would start taunting Golden Boy Potter as soon as possible, and of course Potter would lose his head and do something brash.

The thought of Potter brought the letter to the forefront of his mind. He had tried not to think about it the rest of the summer, but as he scanned the Gryffindor table and found the boy slouching next to his friends, he couldn't help but wonder again at the boy's intentions.

Just then Potter glanced up, meeting his gaze and instantly looking away. He was embarrassed, if the flush was anything to go by. Snape frowned. If it had been a joke, he was certain the boy would have held his stare.

He continued to observe Potter as the sorting began. The boy's eyes had glazed over and he seemed a bit out of it, to the point where Snape expected he might pass out on the spot. The smudges under his eyes hinted at exhaustion and his cheekbones seemed more prominent than they had at the end of last term.

He was dragged out of his thoughts by Thornback being introduced beside him. He took one more glance at the boy and decided he would speak to him about the letter tonight. And perhaps figure out why he looked so awful. If the boy was planning another of his idiotic adventures, Snape would put an end to it immediately, maybe getting a week's worth of detention out of at as well. Snape smirked, mood lifting at the thought of Gryffindor with negative points and Potter chopping up flobberworms. Perhaps this year wouldn't be so terrible after all.

* * *

Harry exited the Great Hall, surrounded by his fellow Gryffindors. They were all talking enthusiastically about the coming year and regaling each other of stories from the summer. Harry heard Seamus mention something about whiskey, umbrellas and balconies, which had Hermione explaining to Ron what an umbrella was and how it was not meant for flight. Harry stayed out of the conversation, preferring to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to think about his bed too much.

"Mr. Potter." Harry froze. He thought he would have at least until tomorrow before running into Snape.

The group of students immediately stopped talking as Harry turned to face Snape. The man was as intimidating as ever, standing in the middle of the hall with his arms crossed.

"Yes, sir?" Harry croaked, then cleared his throat. Snape's eyes narrowed at the rest of the Gryffindors, and they took off, hurrying towards the Common Room. Ron and Hermione remained by his side.

Snape shook his head, annoyed, then met Harry's wary gaze, "Mr. Potter, if you would accompany me to my office, we have some matters to discuss."

Harry hesitated, then nodded at his friends who seemed nervous to leave him with the Potions' Professor. Snape turned, stalking off towards the dungeons and Harry hurried to catch up, waving Ron and Hermione off with an unconvincing smile.

Harry's heart beat hard against his ribs as he followed Snape. The man said nothing until they reached his office, beckoning Harry into a chair in front of his desk with a, "Sit." He obediently sat, stiff with anxiety. Snape walked to the other side, settling in his own chair and proceeded to stare at Harry, who shifted uncomfortably under the intense gaze. Several minutes passed and Harry was about to say something when Snape finally spoke.

"How was your summer, Potter?"

Harry felt paralyzed by shock. It was the last thing he ever thought Snape would say. Was the man joking? Toying with him? He closed his mouth, realizing it was hanging open a bit, and blinked several times. Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry swore he saw a flash of amusement. Then he wondered if he really had passed out earlier and this was all some kind of dream. He cleared his throat again.

"It was fine, sir."

Snape continued his unnerving stare. Harry couldn't take it anymore, and broke the silence.

"Er, how was yours, Professor?"

Snape pulled open one of his desk drawers, startling Harry.

"It was quite relaxing, Potter," he spoke as he rifled through papers in the drawer, pulling one out, "Until I received this." He tossed Harry's letter on the desk and Harry released the breath he'd been holding. His fingers clenched around the arms of his chair.

"Potter, tell me, do you find your tricks amusing?" Harry's heart sank, he hadn't realized until now the small bit of hope he'd held that Snape would take him seriously.

"It wasn't a trick, Professor."

Snape's lip curled and he leaned forward, "Then pray tell, what purpose did you have in sending me this letter? What, exactly, did you imagine the result would be?" Snape's words were hissed angrily and Harry cursed his idiocy, beginning to feel slightly afraid.

"I don't know, sir. I just wanted to apologize," his voice coming out meeker than he liked.

"You just wanted to apologize."

Harry nodded, looking over Snape's shoulder at a bookshelf, unable to meet the man's stare.

"Look at me, Potter." Harry winced, but turned back to Snape.

Snape stared at the boy in front of him. Potter looked awful. And the lack of his usual fight was disturbing to Snape. He noted the messy hair that had plagued him for years was much tamer now. In fact, the boy looked less like his father somehow, especially without the cocky look of self-satisfaction. Instead, there was something akin to fear and possibly disappointment from the boy. Snape attributed his next statement to the boy's more sufferable appearance, trying stubbornly to ignore the fact that he might care.

"I accept your apology."

The shocked expression made a second appearance that night, but Snape felt no smile tugging at his lips this time.

"And I fear I owe you one as well. I may have had less patience than necessary while instructing you." Snape surprised himself with his words, but knew it was too late to take them back.

Harry bit his lip, apparently trying to overcome his continuing shock. "I accept your apology too, sir. Erm, thank you."

Snape nodded. They sat awkwardly for a moment until Snape stood abruptly, causing Harry to leap out of his chair as well.

"You may return to Gryffindor Tower now." Harry nodded, obviously relieved though still confused. "And no stops along the way. I will know about it if you do and I will not tolerate any of your incessant troublemaking."

"Yes, sir." Harry turned to leave. As he opened the door, Snape stopped him.

"Potter, 10 points from Gryffindor for disturbing my summer."

Harry paused for a moment, then continued out the door, shutting it carefully behind him. He was overwhelmed with confusion, but he couldn't help the small smile that came to his face as he made his way down the hall.

* * *

A/N: I've read this through far too many times to notice any possible mistakes. So if something doesn't make sense, just let me know. I hope you guys are enjoying the story thus far. Lucky for you, I've actually semi-planned at least half of this, which means I'll probably update within a reasonable amount of time. Maybe.


	4. Chapter 4

Disturbances

Chapter 4

Harry went immediately to bed after returning to the tower the previous night, promising Ron and Hermione a detailed account of his meeting with Snape the next morning. He had collapsed in bed, falling asleep instantly, yet woke the next morning feeling no more rested than before. Uncle Vernon had plagued his dreams yet again, and Voldemort had made an appearance at the end, taunting him for his weakness. Harry had leapt up from the dream, tangled in his sheets and collapsing on the floor. Dean was the only one awake and went to help Harry up, asking if everything was alright. Harry nodded, removing himself from the blanket and making his way to the bathroom to wash up. His heartbeat was finally slowing and he took a few deep breaths.

He knew it wasn't a vision, like the ones he had last year, but it made him nervous. Dumbledore assured him that Voldemort would not want to enter Harry's head again, after the events at the Ministry, but Harry didn't want to take that chance. He needed to learn Occlumency, even though the idea filled him with dread.

He brushed his teeth and changed into his school clothes, careful to avoid rubbing his back too much. He turned to look at it in the mirror before pulling his shirt down. Angry red slashes crossed each other and Harry cringed, looking away, the dream of his Uncle still too fresh in his mind. It made him feel weak, helpless. If he couldn't protect himself from his Uncle, a muggle, how could he possibly protect himself against Voldemort?

Harry finished getting ready and woke up Ron who was mumbling something about jumpers. He headed down to the Common Room, glad to see Hermione awake and reading by the fire.

"Morning." Harry walked up next to her, noticing a large stack of books by her side. "It looks like you already went to the library, but would you mind stopping by with me before breakfast?"

Hermione's face lit up with a huge grin and Harry felt a small bit of regret for asking. "Of course, Harry!" She gathered her things, shrinking the books and stuffing them in her bag. "What did you need to get?"

Harry opened the portrait hole, gesturing Hermione ahead. "I want to get a book on Occlumency," he whispered, glancing around. He didn't know if it mattered anymore, keeping it a secret, but he figured it wouldn't hurt.

Hermione stopped suddenly, looking at him in surprise. "I thought Dumbledore said you wouldn't need it now. Is that why Snape wanted to talk to you last night?"

Harry pushed her forward a bit to keep moving. "Dumbledore did say that, and no, that's not what Snape wanted. I just thought it would be a good idea anyway. You know, just in case."

Hermione nodded, approvingly. "That's true, Harry. It's a good defense in any case." They arrived at the library and turned in, lowering their voices further. "I'm sure we can find something to help you here, but you'll probably still need someone to teach you." She looked meaningfully at Harry.

He sighed. "I know. I thought about that."

"You could ask Dumbledore." Hermione turned down a row, scanning the book titles, before moving on to the next aisle.

"I thought about that too. But I think I'm going to ask Snape."

Hermione paused. "Really? But it was so awful for you last year."

"I know, but I didn't try very hard then. And I don't like that Snape thinks I'm an idiot." Harry mumbled the last part, avoiding Hermione's inquiring gaze. "I want to show him I can do it."

Hermione thought over his answer, then smiled. "It can't hurt to try, Harry. I'm sure Professor Snape will help, if you ask sincerely. And reading up on it beforehand might make the process a little easier."

Harry decided not to mention that it could very well hurt to try, as the pensieve incident came to mind. He was fairly certain Snape would turn him down for that purpose alone. But after last night, he wasn't so sure.

"Ah! Here's something." Hermione plucked a book off the shelf, handing it to Harry. He looked down at the tome, _Mind Over Magic: The Art of Occlumency_. He flipped through the musty pages, wondering if anyone had read it in the last century.

"This looks good, Hermione. Thanks." He closed the book with a snap and shoved it in his bag, hoping to quell any hopes Hermione might have about Harry visiting the library more often. Hermione rolled her eyes, and headed towards the front desk as Harry sighed in relief.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt for you to come here more. Ron too, obviously." Harry trailed behind her, giving a small hum of agreement, and handed the book to Madame Pince to be checked out.

"What did Snape want last night?" Hermione questioned as they made their way towards the Great Hall.

"It was about the letter. I guess he wanted to see if I was sincere or not."

"Well, what happened?"

Harry struggled to find an answer, not sure he knew himself. "He accepted the apology, so I think he believed me. I can never tell with him though. One minute he was angry with me, then suddenly he was acting almost nice. In a terrifying, mean sort of way of course."

"I know he has always been quite unfair with you Harry, but he has saved your life several times. He might not say the nicest things to you, but I think, in the end, he's someone you can trust." Hermione stopped outside the doors to the Great Hall, looking at Harry. "It can't be easy, what he does, for You-Know-Who," she whispered.

Harry nodded, hearing his own thoughts from the summer repeated back to him. "I think I trust him now. I just don't know if I'll ever like him."

Hermione turned, heading into the hall. "Yes, well, he doesn't make that an easy task."

Ron waved to them from the table, plate already full of food and eggs stuffed unceremoniously in his mouth. He tried several times to talk to them before Hermione stopped him with a, "For heaven's sake, Ron! Finish your food!" and he quickly swallowed what he hadn't already spit out on the table.

"Where were you two?"

Harry picked up some toast as Hermione told Ron about the library, though she mostly discussed all the ways in which Ron himself could benefit from visiting it on a daily basis. Ron cut her off after a few minutes and turned to Harry.

"So what's up with Snape? Did he find some excuse to give you detention on the first night? Scrub every cauldron in the castle? I have to say, I'm not surprised. I did notice the negative points this morning. Tough, mate."

Harry shrugged, searching for Snape at the Head Table, but seeing only Professor Thornback. The man caught his gaze and smiled warmly. Harry gave a small smile in return and turned back to Ron. He had hopes for Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, as pretty much anything would be better than Umbridge, but that didn't mean he trusted Thornback. He planned on staying as far away from the professor as possible when not in class. His track record of Defense teachers trying to kill him was too high for Harry to take any chances this year.

"Snape was weird, Ron," Harry answered, tapping a finger against his plate. "He asked me how my summer was and accepted my apology. Then apologized to me. I'm actually not sure if it even happened. Maybe I dreamed the whole thing."

Ron stared, wide-eyed at Harry, a biscuit halfway in his mouth. "He asked how your summer was?!" Ron turned abruptly to Hermione, waving the biscuit in her face. "'Mione, you read _Hogwarts, A History_ once a week. When, in the entire history of this place, has Snape asked anyone how their summer went?"

Hermione pushed the biscuit out of her face, "Ron."

"Exactly! Never! Harry, are you sure it was Snape? Maybe it was someone under polyjuice or a glamour charm."

"It had to be him. He had my letter. And he wasn't exactly nice Ron, just less awful than normal. Plus he took negative points from Gryffindor and sounded very satisfied while doing it."

Ron nodded solemnly, "Yeah, mate. That's definitely him."

Harry looked up as a dark shape caught his vision. Snape arrived at the head table, taking a seat next to Dumbledore. Harry watched him perform his usual perusal of the room before the gaze landed on him, narrowing into a scowl. Harry broke away from the look, feeling the smallest bit of disappointment.

"Well, it looks like the greasy git is back today," noted Ron, observing the glare Harry had received. Their schedules dropped down in front of them with a small pop and Harry groaned staring at his classes for the day.

"Defense with the Slytherins, followed by Double Potions. With the Slytherins. Why do they think it's a good idea to put us together in the two most potentially dangerous classes?"

"I think they want us to learn to work together, for unity between the houses," Hermione pitched in as she stood, adjusting her bag. Harry stared at it.

"How many books do you have in there Hermione?"

She shrugged, blushing. "I used an expanding charm on the inside so it can hold five times as many as a normal bag."

Ron snorted as they made their way to the Defense classroom. "If it could hold 100 times as many books, you would still manage to fill it Hermione."

They entered the classroom, taking seats as far away from Malfoy and his goons as possible. Harry didn't want to deal with the distractions inevitable from them. He looked up at Professor Thornback who was observing them all with a grin. Harry glanced at Hermione who was returning the smile, then rolled his eyes at Ron.

"Welcome!" The class quieted as Thornback raised his hands. He lowered them behind his back and began to walk around the room. "I am Professor Thornback, as you all know. I have been informed by the Headmaster of the unfortunate delays in your education in the area of defense against the dark arts. I assure you that I have every intention of catching you up this year to the proper level of knowledge and experience you will require, not only for N.E.W.T.s, but for the world as well."

Harry felt some of his fears alleviate at the words. Maybe he'd actually learn something practical this year.

Thornback spent the rest of the class outlining the syllabus and briefly reviewing shield charms to ensure they were all casting them correctly. He assigned several chapters of reading, and the trio left feeling hopeful at the prospect of a decent professor.

They were approaching the dungeons for Double Potions, excitedly discussing variations Thornback had mentioned on shield charms, when Harry was bumped violently from behind, sending his bag and books flying.

"Careful there, Potty," Draco quipped, swiftly passing him with a group of sniggering Slytherins.

Harry groaned, gathering up his scattered papers. "I am not looking forward to dealing with Malfoy during potions," he grumbled. Ron and Hermione grabbed the rest of his things and they hurried to the classroom.

"We'll have to watch him Harry," Hermione looked worried, "I don't trust him not to sabotage us."

Thankfully they made it to class on time, but unfortunately the only table left was next to Malfoy and Zabini. Hermione waved Ron off to work with Dean, placing herself between Harry and Malfoy. Harry frowned at her position.

"Harry, you need to focus on brewing. I can watch Malfoy and work at the same time. It's better this way."

Harry reluctantly agreed, knowing Hermione could probably brew a perfect potion in her sleep.

Snape burst through the doors with his usual finesse and began listing off ingredients. Harry scrambled to copy them down. He wanted to do better this year. He had a brief fantasy at breakfast of succeeding in every potions class this year and giving Snape a heart attack from the shock.

Snape hit his wand against the board, causing Harry to jump.

"I will not tolerate any foolishness in this class. We will be dealing with highly volatile ingredients. You are to be focused at all times unless you want to end up in the hospital wing for the rest of the year. I expect maturity and discipline from all of you. If you do not perform to these standards, you will no longer be allowed in this class."

Snape glared at them for several moments, then waved his wand, directions appearing on the board. "Begin."

The rest of the class was spent in intense concentration, the only talking was murmurs between partners about brewing instructions. Harry was already overwhelmed at the difficulty of the potion, though he thought his and Hermione's looked close to correct so far and there were only a few more steps left.

Snape had been making rounds of the room, speaking only tersely to those about to make a grave mistake. He had paused once at Harry's cauldron, only to move on without a word. Harry allowed himself a small smile of victory, then went back to carefully slicing a mandrake root. He made sure to follow the instructions exactly, making the thinnest slices possible. As he brought the knife down, a pain he hadn't felt since the summer flared to life in his bones, burning with a vengeance. Harry gasped, his hand shaking as it jerked the knife, slicing part of his thumb. He barely felt it. His whole body was on fire.

"Harry!" Hermione grabbed his arm. He spared a thought to be thankful she managed to keep her voice low. He did not want the entire class watching as he had some kind of meltdown. He hunched over the table, gripping the edges hard, trying to stay upright. It'll pass, he thought, then he could finish the potion and Snape would be proud. Er, well, not proud probably. Annoyed more like it. Or disappointed. Harry grit his teeth, taking deep breaths through his nose. Hermione continued to look at him in concern, then she did the one thing Harry hoped she wouldn't, she raised her hand.

Snape saw Granger's hand raise from the corner of his eye. The girl was extremely intelligent, but she asked too many questions for Snape's liking. He made his way towards her, noticing Potter with his head bowed next to her. Something wasn't right. The boy was sweating and obviously in pain. He quickly went through all the possible combinations of ingredients they were using that could cause the reaction, but came up with nothing.

"What happened, Granger?" Snape kept his voice low, hoping to avoid Malfoy's awareness of the situation. Thankfully all the students were so focused on their cauldrons, they had yet to notice anything off.

"I don't know, professor. He was fine until a moment ago."

Snape observed the boy, then noted the blood coming from his thumb. It was hardly the reaction one should have for a cut. He knew Potter and been through much worse. It had to be something more.

He glanced at the time. Five minutes left, good enough.

"Class dismissed. Place a stasis charm on your potion if you have not finished. Otherwise, bottle it and leave it on my desk."

The students jumped into action, thrilled to be leaving early, no matter if it was only minutes. Snape turned to Malfoy who looked as though he might start speaking to Granger. Luckily Harry was hidden from view as she stood over him.

"Mr. Malfoy, I believe you have an arithmancy class to attend. I would not want Slytherin to lose points this early in the year. I believe Gryffindor should maintain that honor."

Malfoy smirked, picking up his things with a "Yes, sir." Then headed out of the classroom.

Snape turned to Hermione. "If I am correct, you have that class as well Ms. Granger." She nodded, but hesitated, looking worriedly at Harry.

"You have no need to worry about Mr. Potter. I will escort him to the hospital wing and inform the headmaster."

Hermione looked at him with some uncertainty, before squeezing Harry's arm, and leaving with one more backward glance at the door.

Snape pointed his wand at the cut on Potter's hand, healing it with a quick charm. The boy didn't react at all, seemingly focused entirely on breathing.

"Mr. Potter, I hardly think the sight of blood would send you into a state of shock."

Harry didn't reply and Snape sighed, making a decision. He warded the door to the classroom and knelt down on one knee next to the boy. He wavered briefly, then put his hand on the boy's arm.

"Potter. I need you to tell me what is wrong." The contact and surprising softness of Snape's voice seemed to startle Harry out of his trance. Green eyes turned to Snape. He noted they were watering slightly.

"I don't know. Everything hurts." The voice came out in a rasp and Snape frowned.

"If you are able to walk, we can floo to the hospital wing from my office."

Harry felt panic rising in his chest. If he went to the hospital wing, they'd find the bruises, not to mention his back, and then of course they'd want to know how it happened. Harry loosened his grip on the table. It hurt so much though, and what if something was really wrong with him? And he really didn't want to return to the Dursleys ever again. Harry doubted Vernon would stop, knowing he could get away with it. But the thought of Dumbledore knowing. And even Madame Pomfrey. The looks of pity he knew would cross their faces and the shame he felt just imagining it.

Harry looked at Snape, surprisingly patient at his side. Snape already thought very little of him, and he must have some idea of what happened at his relatives in the past, after all those disastrous Occlumency lessons. Snape wouldn't give him any pity.

"I can walk." Snape rose, holding Harry's elbow as they made their way haltingly through the back door to his office. Snape grabbed the floo powder from the mantle, calling out the hospital wing as he threw it into the flames.

Harry tumbled out of the fireplace, almost falling until Snape's hands caught him by the arms, steadying him. Harry nodded his thanks, feeling slightly embarrassed, yet relieved that Snape attributed the stumble to Harry's condition instead of the fact that Harry ended up on the ground every time he used the floo.

Snape guided him to a bed and went to fetch Madame Pomfrey. Harry realized the ache had dissipated slightly, though remained quite uncomfortable. The mediwitch bustled over with Snape in tow.

"Mr. Potter, I can't say I'm surprised to see you here this early in the year. Professor Snape has informed me what happened. I'm going to run a few diagnostic charms, so you just sit back against the pillow there."

Harry adjusted, leaning back, then felt a spike of fear as he saw Snape turning to leave.

"Wait!" He sat up abruptly, wincing. Snape raised an eyebrow. "Could you, er, stay Professor? Please?" The look of surprise on Snape's face lasted only a moment and was quickly covered by a mask of indifference.

"I need to inform the Headmaster of the situation, Potter. Surely you would like him to be here?"

Harry shifted awkwardly, heat rising to his cheeks. "I'd rather wait, until Madame Pomfrey knows anything. I don't want to bother him if it's nothing."

Snape studied him for a moment, then returned to stand by the bed. "I hardly think it is nothing, Potter, but I will wait."

Harry relaxed slightly, leaning back again. As long as Snape was there, as awkward as it was with the man watching, he somehow felt better. If anything came up about Harry removing his clothing, he'd refuse and ask to speak to Snape alone. It wasn't the best plan, but it was the only one that made him somewhat comfortable.

Pomfrey continued to wave her wand over him, frowning. "There appears to be something affecting your physical attributes, Mr. Potter. I will need to take a sample of your blood. If I am correct, it might be a potion."

Harry frowned. His physical attributes? What did that mean?

Snape spoke before Harry had a chance. "Have you ingested anything that tasted strangely in the past week, Potter?"

Harry shook his head, turning back to Pomfrey who was now taking a small sample of his blood from his finger. "What do you mean, my physical attributes? Are my arms going to fall off or something?"

"No, dear, it seems to be affecting your appearance."

Harry stared at her in confusion. "My appearance? Like Polyjuice? But I don't look any different than usual." As soon as he said it he thought back to the conversation on the train about his hair. Then he realized why the pain was familiar. He felt similarly after taking the Polyjuice Potion in second year.

"That's what it feels like," he murmured, suddenly feeling cold with dread.

"What does it feel like, Potter?" Snape pressed, examining him intently.

Harry swallowed down the anxiety threatening to overtake him. "It feels like Polyjuice wearing off. But, well, more so." He turned to Madame Pomfrey, only to realize she was gone.

Snape noticed him looking around, confused. "She has gone to test your blood sample for spells and potions that take affect through the bloodstream."

Harry nodded, dazed. He briefly noted that the pain settled to a dull ache in his bones.

"Mr. Potter, as thrilled as I am that you requested my company, I must ask why you felt the need for me to stay. Surely you would prefer your head of house or the Headmaster? He would not find this a _waste of time_." Snape emphasized the last part, hinting to Harry his exact thoughts on his own time spent standing in the infirmary.

Harry instantly regretted his decision. Of course Snape would see this as a waste of time. But he didn't want to reveal his true intentions to Snape, unless he had no other choice. He figured he would go with his second best option, though it didn't seem much better.

"I wanted to ask for your help." Harry cleared his throat as Snape stood silently, no reaction showing on his face. "I want to take Remedial Potions again. With you."

Snape snorted, apparently amused by Harry's request. "Are you completely daft? Don't be ridiculous, Potter. I will not spend my free evenings enduring the torture of trying to teach your dimwitted mind something it so obviously cannot handle. And as the Headmaster said, there is no longer a need for you to learn the skill."

"Yes, but that seems like a dangerous assumption to make, don't you think?" Harry pleaded, hoping the strange niceness Snape had been showing lately would make an appearance.

Snape flicked his wand, casting a silencing spell around them. "Dangerous? Mr. Potter, you gave very little thought to the danger you put everyone else in last year by refusing to clear your mind," Snape snarled, anger filling his features. "Did you not consider just how dangerous it is for me, teaching you night after night, waiting for the moment the Dark Lord broke into your mind and saw me there? Discovered my secrets? Tortured me to death at the next summons?"

Snape had drawn closer to Harry's bed, and Harry wished he hadn't brought the topic up. Why didn't he ever consider Snape's position last year? What he was sacrificing for him? Harry had acted like a selfish brat. Maybe Snape had been right about him after all.

Harry looked into Snape's challenging gaze, feeling contrite. "You're right, sir. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore is right as well."

Snape's anger faded minutely and he studied Harry. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the arrival of Madame Pomfrey at the bedside followed by none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"Headmaster," Snape nodded to the man. Dumbledore acknowledged him, then turned to Harry.

"Mr. Potter, are you feeling any better?"

Harry nodded, wary of the odd expression on Dumbledore's face.

"Wonderful, my boy. Poppy informs me that you should continue to rest, however, she has agreed that a meeting in my office would do you no harm, as long as you stay seated. Are you feeling well enough to accompany me there?"

Harry nodded again, "Yes, sir." His anxiety grew as he saw Pomfrey's equally odd expression.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at him. "Excellent." He turned to Snape, "Severus, if you could join us as well." He stepped forward, helping Harry off the bed, and guiding him towards the floo. Harry managed to walk on his own, feeling a bit stiff, but immensely better than earlier. Dumbledore waved Snape ahead of them and he disappeared into the flames. Harry stepped in after, Dumbledore by his side, feeling the dizzying rush of the floo before he tumbled out of the hearth, into the waiting arms of Snape. Harry blushed and mumbled an apology.

"You are making this a habit, Potter," Snape drawled. Harry couldn't tell if he was angry or not, and apologized again.

Dumbledore gestured them both to the chairs, settling in his own. "Lemon drop?" He held the bowl out towards them. Equally annoyed voices said no simultaneously, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with a smile. He set the bowl down, expression becoming more grave.

"Harry, if you are too tired to continue, or feel any pain, do not hesitate to interrupt this conversation."

Harry agreed, feeling his nerves increase. Was he dying? Did he have some weird disease that had to do with the Polyjuice he'd taken four years ago? That seemed like an awful long time for side effects to appear.

Dumbledore examined them both before speaking. "Madame Pomfrey tested your blood sample for effects of magic Harry, as I'm sure you know. I, myself, performed the same tests with the same result. It seems you have indeed both a potion and a charm influencing your appearance."

Harry shook his head, coming up with one question that was causing the most confusion. "For how long?"

"Sixteen years." Dumbledore's expressed gently.

Harry stared at him in shock. Snape's head jerked slightly at Dumbledore's response, surprise showing on his face.

"My whole life? But, why? What does that mean?"

"The magical signature was your mother's, Harry."

"Lily?" Snape muttered next to him. Harry didn't realize he could feel more shocked in that moment, but Snape proved him wrong.

"Yes, Severus. She used the Apparentia Secundus potion combined with a very powerful glamour charm."

"The what?" Harry questioned.

Snape answered, sounding aggravated, "The Apparentia Secundus potion, Potter, is similar to the Polyjuice in that it changes the appearance of a person by using the hair of another the brewer wishes the potion to mimic. In combination with a glamour charm, the effects would become more long lasting, as well as more pliable, enabling the caster to make small changes."

Harry couldn't seem to focus on anything. His mother had changed his appearance, but for what purpose? Why would she do that?

Dumbledore interrupted his musings. "You are experiencing pain because the potion is wearing off. If I am correct, I believe it has worn off almost fully. However, the glamour continues to maintain most of your usual characteristics."

"But why?" Harry burst out, "Why would it need to be there in the first place? I don't understand."

"I admit, I do not know for certain, my boy," Dumbledore replied gently, "But I have a few thoughts. I actually asked Professor Snape to accompany us here for help in this matter." He turned to address Snape, "Severus, would you brew a paternity potion for me?"

Harry's heart stopped. The thought hadn't even occurred to him. Was Dumbledore suggesting Harry's parents weren't really his parents?

Snape seemed just as shocked, but nodded, rising from his seat. "It will be ready by this evening." Then he headed out the door without a word.

Harry turned back to Dumbledore. "Are you saying I might have different parents, sir?"

Dumbledore looked weary. "No, Harry, not parents, just father." Harry didn't feel any better about that. "I am certain you are your mother's child. I saw her many times while she was carrying you."

Harry noticed a familiar look in Dumbledore's expression. He'd seen it too many times in the past few years to miss it. The Headmaster knew something he was not telling him.

"Please, Professor, tell me what you know." Harry pleaded, frustration edging into his voice. He was so tired of important information about him being kept from him.

"I will tell you what I suspect Harry, but only after we see the results of the potion. For now I would like you to return to the infirmary and try to rest until this evening. Your dinner will be delivered to you there."

Harry knew he wouldn't get anymore information out of the Headmaster, so he stood as Dumbledore directed him towards the fireplace.

"I am truly sorry, Harry. I know this must be difficult. You always show such amazing resilience in the face of adversity, but know you are not alone in anything you must face."

Harry met the sincere gaze, "Thank you, sir." Then stepped into the floo.

* * *

Snape arrived in the Headmaster's office that evening, feeling particularly edgy. He could always tell when something awful was about to happen. He had spent the rest of the day brewing after teaching a rather uneventful third year class. But now, without any distractions, his mind was free to ponder the situation. Why would Lily have used that potion? And why did Albus think it possible Potter might have different parentage?

"Severus. Come in." Dumbledore was placing his pensieve back in a side cabinet. The sight of it made Snape wary. "The events of the past day have brought back some old memories, and I felt the need to review a few." He looked up at Snape briefly, then moved to sit at the desk.

"Shouldn't Potter be summoned?" Snape didn't like the look in the man's eyes.

"He will be here soon. But first I'd like to discuss something with you."

Snape sat down stiffly in the chair. "Albus, if you have something important to discuss, please do not draw it out. And do not offer me a lemon drop!"

Dumbledore dropped his hand from where it was reaching for the bowl of sweets. Snape suspected they were laced with a calming draught.

"I want to prepare you in the event that Harry's parentage is not what we previously thought."

"Shouldn't you be preparing the boy instead? What does this have to do with me?"

"Severus, do not make this difficult. I know you loved Lily."

Snape gripped the arms of the chair, trying to maintain his temper. "Get on with it, Albus," he ground out.

Dumbledore sighed. "You know what I am hinting at, Severus. You will not convince me that you haven't thought of it as well."

"I never slept with Lily, Headmaster, if that is what you are implying," Snape seethed.

"I am aware of that, however, I would like to discuss one of your memories."

"Which memory are you referring to, Albus? I have many."

Dumbledore ignored his tone, leaning forward, "Many years ago, before coming to me for help, you made a choice I believe you still regret today. When Tom gave you a gift for your loyalty to him."

Snape blanched. He felt his anger rising, dangerously close to the surface. "What purpose does this serve, Albus? To remind me of my horrible crimes?"

Dumbledore's voice softened, "Of course not, my boy. I am truly sorry for bringing it up, but I must ask you if you remember when that event took place?"

Snape's anger immediately vanished, replaced by cold fear. He thought back to the time. It had been just after Halloween, he knew because the Dark Lord used many of his potions to torture quite a number of wizards that night, the act that earned his prize for loyalty.

"November 1979, I believe," Snape murmured, finally seeing what Dumbledore was looking for. "Albus, that couldn't have been..."

"Lily came to me later that year. She asked that I try to help you, bring you back to our side. I found it strange she bring up the matter then, and never before, so I asked her why. She mentioned she had seen you recently. Under a glamour."

Snape couldn't move. It had to be coincidence. If that had been Lily...

"I bring this up now Severus, because I want you to be aware of what this potion may very well tell us. Harry could be your son."

Snape blinked, taking a deep breath.

"And if he is not, I still hope that you will help him through this."

Snape's head snapped up at that, staring at Dumbledore in confusion. "That's preposterous, Albus. Even if I wanted to help the brat, do you actually believe he would want that?"

"You underestimate Harry's ability to forgive, Severus. I think you should get to know the boy better, no matter his parentage. I believe you both would benefit from it greatly."

Snape stared at the man, wondering yet again if Dumbledore was a bit barmy.

The fireplace flared to life and Harry stumbled out, landing in a heap. Snape raised an eyebrow. Apparently the boy always had trouble with the floo.

Harry rose, brushing himself off sheepishly and taking a seat in the empty chair next to Snape.

"Good evening, Harry. It looks as though you're feeling better."

Snape watched Harry nod, noting the anxiety on the boy's face. Now that he looked more closely, Potter's features were quite a bit different. Not enough to raise awareness, but enough for Snape to recognize some of his own traits. He stopped his thoughts abruptly, shaking off the idea. Albus was wrong. They'd test the potion, everything would be normal, and then he'd return to his rooms to finish up the bottle of scotch he'd been saving for an occasion such as this.

"Severus, the potion if you will." Dumbledore reached out, taking the vial from Snape's hand. "Now Harry, when we place a drop of your blood in this vial, it will tell us the identity of your parents."

Harry offered his hand, trying not to think of the last time his blood was used in a potion. He wondered what Dumbledore meant by the potion identifying his parents, but he didn't feel like asking. He'd find out soon enough anyway.

Dumbledore made a small cut on Harry's palm with his wand and held it over the vial. A drop fell in and Dumbledore healed Harry's hand with a quick flick of his wand.

The potion, initially clear, swirled from red to silver as a fine vapor rose out the top and separated into two columns. Slowly the mist formed into words and Harry recognized his mother's name on the left. He looked to the right, heart dropping. That couldn't be right. This had to be some sort of joke. Harry felt his breaths shortening into small gasps, knowing he was having some sort of panic attack, but not caring.

Next to him, Snape rose from his chair and strode across the room to the door. He left without a word.

Harry continued to stare at the name.

_'Severus Tobias Snape'_

Then he looked at Dumbledore, sitting across from him with a worried look on his face.

"I think I'll have that lemon drop now."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews guys! And as Professor Radar commented, Harry can't catch a break, can he? Haha, sorry Harry! It won't be getting any easier. Of course.

* * *

Disturbances

Chapter 5

Harry felt oddly devoid of any emotion. Perhaps it would hit him later? Maybe he should stay away from breakable objects for the next couple days, considering what happened to Dumbledore's belongings last year. It was rather embarrassing to think about now.

"Harry." The Headmaster caught his attention and he wondered how long he'd been sitting there, staring off at nothing in particular.

"Yes, sir?"

"Would you like to continue our earlier discussion? I believe you must have a great deal of questions, though I cannot promise I know all the answers."

Harry nodded, feeling some amount of trepidation. The more they talked about it, the more real it would become to him.

"I just don't understand anything right now. It seems absurd and impossible. Did Professor Snape even know my mother that well?"

Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles at Harry, speaking softly, "I am going to tell you something Harry, that you must promise not to reveal to anyone without Professor Snape's permission."

"I promise," Harry agreed.

Dumbledore watched him carefully, then nodded, "During her first few years at Hogwarts, your mother was good friends with Professor Snape. Best friends, I might even say."

Harry's brow raised in shock. Things kept getting weirder and he briefly wondered if he mistakenly entered an alternate universe.

"Unfortunately, as with most friendships between rival houses, prejudices and misunderstandings got in the way. Their friendship ended abruptly, much to my dismay. Lily came to me once during her seventh year with a request that I talk to Severus and attempt to keep him from becoming a Death Eater. Even though they rarely spoke anymore, she still cared greatly for him. At that point in time, Voldemort was offering power and belonging to those willing to follow. Sadly, I could not dissuade Severus from joining, as he believed he finally found a place of acceptance."

Harry realized he knew very little of Snape's life other than the brief memories from Occlumency he'd managed to see. He never cared to know, he supposed. Did that mean he cared now?

"Lily did not speak of Severus again until several years later. Quite out of the blue, she once more requested I try to help him. She seemed to feel guilty for not maintaining the friendship and believed this had some influence on his choice. I asked her why she brought the matter up suddenly, after many years. She admitted to having seen Severus several months previously, but that he did not know it was her, due to a glamour."

Dumbledore paused there, again looking at Harry, as if deciding what to say.

"As you know, Professor Snape did eventually return to our side. Because of the love he still had for your mother. I know you might not be able to believe that, but you must trust me when I say it's true. And he has since continued to earn my trust many times over. I imagine he treats you as he does because he sees in you his biggest regret. He feels responsible for the death of your mother, his dearest friend. I do not condone his behavior towards you, but I will say this, I trust the man with my life and I hope you can too, Harry."

Harry blinked, unable to think of a response. He couldn't imagine Snape loving anyone. He thought over Dumbledore's words carefully. "That still doesn't explain how Professor Snape is my...father." The words felt wrong coming from his mouth.

"Harry, Professor Snape committed many atrocious acts as a Death Eater. He has tortured and killed. Though I can tell you with absolute certainty he took no pleasure in the actions, that does not excuse them. He has spent many years trying to atone for those sins, but I believe he will never forgive himself. When he came to me for help, I requested he become a spy for the Order. I asked him to do many things that endangered his life, and he did them. However, as you know, Voldemort could not discover his intentions. I helped Professor Snape to build his Occlumency shields in order to hide the truth, and in doing so, I became privy to many of his memories. The crimes he commit on Voldemort's orders haunted him the most, coming up repeatedly in our sessions."

Dumbledore paused again, trying to find the right words. Harry didn't like where the conversation was going. He knew the sort of things Voldemort did, and had his Death Eaters do. He'd had several visions last year of the torturing of their victims and it wasn't something he ever wanted to see again.

"Harry, you always have a choice. I must emphasize this fact because it is important. We have all made the wrong choices, many times in our lives, myself included. Quite often, we make choices we believe to be right at the time, only to see the better solution later. I think both you and I experienced that last year."

Harry looked down, giving a slight nod.

"Professor Snape made a choice he believed to be his only option while under the orders of Voldemort. He was offered a prize, as Tom put it, for his loyalty. A woman captured by several other Death Eaters."

Harry paled, realizing what had been expected of Snape, and tried to ignore where he knew this was going.

"He did what he thought was best at the time to save the woman's life and his own. However, as I saw and he came to realize, it was not the right choice. And that decision will haunt him for the rest of his life. I must emphasize that Professor Snape is not the man he was then. He has lived through the consequences of his actions and learned from them, turning himself into a better man. Though I believe the decisions he has made keep him up many nights."

Harry knew the all encompassing regret of making the poor decision and hurting someone else in the process. Ending their life. Sirius' empty gaze flashed in his head and he blinked it away.

"Harry, I am telling you this because there was one important part of the memory that Professor Snape unconsciously focused on every time. A brief expression on the woman's face. Something he had seen in the past many times before. I did not connect the memory to another until today. Professor Snape never had any knowledge of the meeting Lily mentioned to me. But I believe the woman in Snape's memory was under a glamour, Harry. I believe it was your mother."

Harry couldn't process the words. He sat unmoving, feeling overwhelmed.

"Harry, this information was shared with me in Professor Snape's confidence, so I must again request that you do not discuss this with anyone else. But I do ask that you consider speaking with him about this matter. I realize there is much animosity between the two of you. and you probably wish to avoid him for the remainder of your time at Hogwarts, however, I hope that you would give him a chance. You have both endured much in your lives and I think something good could come of this situation."

Harry frowned. There were too many conflicting thoughts in his head. Dumbledore had just informed Harry that his mother had been violated by Snape, and now he wanted Harry to give him a chance? He wanted to hate the man and ignore this new information on his parentage. But then some part of him disagreed. The part that so desperately wanted a family that even having Snape for a father would do.

It was too much for him. He pushed it towards the back of his mind, trying to think of anything else, then realized he still had a lot of questions.

"Professor, will the glamour wear off eventually as well? I mean, what's going to happen now?"

"It is a very strong charm that Lily placed on you, so it seems it might hold on it's own. However, now that the potion is almost out of your system, I believe the glamour could easily be removed should it's counter be cast."

"So I could just keep it forever? If I wanted to do that?"

Dumbledore sighed, looking sad, "Harry, it is your choice what you do now. I hope you wouldn't deny who you truly are."

Harry clenched his jaw. He was a mistake. A product of an awful experience. The son of a Death Eater who despised him.

Dumbledore seemed to know where his thoughts were heading. "You are the son of a great witch and wizard. Your mother loved you dearly, Harry. It is my belief that she chose to use that potion in order to keep you from Voldemort's claim. You have nothing to be ashamed of, my boy."

Harry shrugged, only slightly mollified. "Well, if I do decide to remove the glamour, I guess we'll have to figure out some kind of cover or something? I mean, I'm assuming Voldemort wouldn't be too happy with Sn-Professor Snape if he found out Harry Potter was his son."

Dumbledore inclined his head in agreement. "Yes, I will have everything prepared for you, should you make that choice."

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. He stood slowly, "If it's okay, sir, I think I need to go lie down."

"Of course Harry," he rose, walking him to the door. "And if you talk to Professor Snape, please be patient with him. I know it is not fair to ask that of you, but if you give him the opportunity, I believe he could be a wonderful father."

Harry tried not to cringe, giving a small smile, and headed down the stairs.

He walked through the empty halls, realizing it must be after curfew by now. He figured Snape would be holed up in the dungeons and any other professor would accept his excuse for seeing the Headmaster.

Harry stopped abruptly. Snape was his father. He was a Snape. Harry Snape.

Harry stood, frozen in the middle of the hall. Why was this happening to him? At first he had a dead father, then an uncle that thought he was a freak, and now his father was alive, but hated him? Harry didn't understand.

He started walking again, much slower now. The thought of lying restlessly in bed trying to sleep did not sound appealing. He turned on his heel, making a decision before he could stop himself, and stalked off towards the dungeons. He would just get it over with now. If he didn't speak with Snape, he'd spend the rest of the week anxiously trying to avoid the man.

He tried not to think of anything at all as he made his way down the corridors. He couldn't keep his nerves from rising. He tried to abate the feeling with the fact that Snape had been rather nice to him lately. But that was before he knew Harry was his son. He had gone from representing one awful mistake for the man, to a completely different, yet equally terrible one.

Harry reached the door to the office and knocked before he could stop himself. He waited, shifting nervously on his feet. The door swung open suddenly, startling him. Snape glared down at him and Harry struggled to keep himself from bolting back down the hall.

After what felt like an eternity, Snape stepped back inside, gesturing Harry to follow. Harry took the seat in front of the desk and realized he had been sitting in the same spot just the other night. It seemed a long time ago now.

Snape settled into his own chair carefully, fingers steepled under his chin. "I admit I am surprised you have come here," Snape spoke with a neutral tone.

Harry opened his mouth and shut it, unsure what Snape wanted him to say.

Snape sighed, running a hand over his face. "I suppose I owe you an explanation, Mr. Po-," Snape cut off abruptly, clearing his throat.

"Professor Dumbledore explained it to me, sir," Harry interjected.

"Meddling old man," Snape murmured, looking vaguely angry. Harry tried to relax his tense muscles, but Snape's calm unnerved him. The man must be furious. Harry Potter was his bloody son.

Snape looked at the boy in front of him. He appeared uncomfortable, as if waiting for Snape to erupt.

Snape had immediately returned to his office after the revelation of the potion, pouring himself several glasses of scotch until he threw the last one at the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. He couldn't stop thinking about the woman. Lily. The look on her face. The inane gesture of forgiveness. He didn't deserve to be forgiven!

And now Harry Potter was a new form of torture to him. A reminder of yet another mistake. Green eyes condemning him for his deeds.

It was worse that the boy still resembled James Potter. It made it almost impossible to accept that this was his son sitting in front of him. By all appearances, afraid of him. Snape deflated at the thought. He didn't want to become his own father. As much as he disliked the idea of the arrogant brat being of relation to him, he could not continue to treat him cruelly as he had the past five years.

"Harry," Snape spoke reluctantly. The boy's eyes widened in surprise. Snape cleared his throat again, "I expect you would rather ignore this new information?"

Snape watched as Harry's features twisted in confusion. He thought he saw a brief flash of disappointment.

"I suppose it would be best, sir."

Snape paused at the resigned tone. There was no way the boy would want to pursue this relationship? The idea was ludicrous, it would never work.

Snape nodded to himself, continuing, "I agree it would be for the best. As you know, I must keep my cover for the Dark Lord and this presents a complication. I would ask you not reveal this information to anyone, if you are capable of such discretion?"

Harry nodded, looking off to the side.

Snape frowned. "We both know this would end poorly. However, though I will endeavor to treat you with more respect, I must still present a certain dislike towards you for those such as Mr. Malfoy who will undoubtedly report anything suspicious to the Dark Lord."

"I'm sure that should be easy enough for you, sir."

Snape felt his anger rising and took a deep breath. The boy was still avoiding his gaze.

"Potter," Snape ground out, "As distasteful as this discovery must be for you, I would appreciate your word that you will keep this a secret."

Harry turned and met Snape's gaze. He was expecting the usual defiance and insufferable arrogance, but instead there was just sadness. Snape was taken aback by how young the boy looked.

"But what if I want a father?" Harry stated, appearing as if he had just realized the desire himself.

Snape's eyes widened in shock. He hadn't even considered the idea that the boy would want to be his son. Was he mad? He had treated Potter abysmally for years! Perhaps the boy enjoyed pain?

Harry shifted awkwardly. "I just, well, I don't really have a family. And I thought, if we could try..." He trailed off, looking lost.

"But what of your relatives? Aren't they your family?" Snape questioned, the memories from Occlumency crossing his mind again.

"They don't really, um, like me." Harry looked uncomfortable, eyes shifting around the room, then back to Snape.

"They don't like you?" Snape spoke slowly, eyebrow raised.

"Yes, they'd probably be quite happy to be rid of me."

Snape studied him closely. "Why would they be happy to be rid of you?"

"I'm an arrogant, spoiled brat, sir. You said so yourself." That blasted defiance returned to his face. Snape ground his teeth, trying to remain calm. The boy was obviously avoiding the real answer, but Snape let it go. For now.

"Pott-Harry," Snape corrected himself, "I do not think you are fully considering this situation. You do realize pursing this would mean spending time together? I hardly think that is something you or I would find enjoyable."

Harry bit his lip, mulling it over. Snape made an effort to not to speak again. The boy was obviously not thinking this through, as usual. A relationship built on hate would never work, and it was quite obvious they despised each other.

"Okay," Harry finally spoke. Snape thought he should feel relieved, but instead he felt a small bit of regret. He immediately pushed the feeling away.

"But," Harry met Snape's gaze, "only if you agree to give me Occlumency lessons again."

Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy. It almost seemed easier to accept their newfound relation, but then Snape would have something to lose. The thought surprised him, but he ignored it as well, not wanting to examine his emotions too closely at this point in time.

"Fine. I expect you here Thursday evening at 8pm. You will show more of an effort than your appalling attempts of last year. And you will not invade my privacy again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now leave. And remember, do not mention this to anyone."

"Yes, sir." Harry stood and exited the room quickly, not looking back.

Snape sighed, leaning back in his chair. Everything was spiraling out of control. He couldn't think straight. He prayed the Dark Lord would not summon him before he could reinforce his Occlumency shields. His pinched the bridge of his nose, if the Dark Lord discovered he had a son, he would not be let off easily. And if he found out it was Harry Potter, Snape would surely die a very painful death.

Snape rose, grabbing a bottle of Dreamless Sleep from the shelf and headed towards his quarters. Sleep seemed like the best and only option about now.

* * *

Harry had drifted back to his dorm in a daze, then spent the night in fitful bursts of sleep, interrupted time and again by nightmares of Vernon, Voldemort, and now Snape. The last one had Harry standing in front of the Great Hall, greasy hair hanging in his face. The Gryffindors had shunned him, discovering the truth. He had tried to approach the Slytherins, explaining the sorting hat wanting to put him there, but they began hurling curses at him. He turned to cower on the ground, looking up into the eyes of Snape. His father. "This will not end well," Snape growled, then pointed his own wand at Harry.

Harry had woken up then, a cold sheen of sweat covering him. The sun was coming up, but none of his roommates were awake yet. He figured there wasn't any point in trying to sleep more. The constant fatigue weighed on him heavily as he changed and descended to the Common Room to wait for his friends.

Even if he was allowed to tell other people the monstrous discovery of the previous evening, Harry had no inclination to do so. Guess what guys? I'm the spawn of our most hated git of a potions professor! He was sure that would go over real well.

Thinking back on his conversation with Snape made him uneasy. He hadn't planned on telling the man he wanted him for a father. He didn't even know if it was true. The words had come out before he knew what was happening. He supposed it could have been worse. Snape was somewhat civil, even if he obviously detested the idea of Harry for a son.

The thought sent an unpleasant pang through his chest and the pressure behind his eyes returned. He shook off the feeling. He would not cry over Snape. He should be happy. He would go on with his life as Harry Potter and he wouldn't have to attempt some kind of weird, awkward and most likely painful relationship with Snape. Though the idea of ignoring this revelation did not seem possible at the moment. He was fairly certain it would still be a weird, awkward and painful experience, either way.

His fellow students began to pass through, a few offering brief greetings to Harry while several first years stared openly. Ron finally arrived, sitting heavily next to Harry and looking as though he might still be asleep.

"Hey Harry," he mumbled, eyes closed. They suddenly snapped open and he grabbed Harry by the arms, looking him over intently. "Harry! Are you okay? Hermione and I were worried you'd died or something! I placed my bets on Snape cutting your heart out for some kind of dark potions ritual, but Hermione said I was being ridiculous. She's much too trusting of the slimy git."

Harry patted Ron's knee awkwardly, "I'm fine Ron, it was, erm, an allergic reaction." Harry hoped this was something Hermione wouldn't look into, otherwise he might have a problem. Did wizards even have allergies?

"That sucks, mate."

"An allergic reaction?" Hermione sat down next to Ron. "Was it to one of the ingredients?"

Harry realized he should have planned his answer beforehand, "Um, I think it was a combination of something. I don't remember. I was a little out of it, but I'll find out from Madame Pomfrey later."

Hermione frowned, "When did you get back? We waited up for you."

"Oh. I don't know? It was pretty late."

"I'm surprised Pomfrey let you go after curfew," Hermione continued, eyes squinting in a way that made Harry feel wary.

"I did a lot of begging. It was probably annoying. I'm super hungry guys, do you mind if we head down to breakfast? And maybe you could explain the purpose of adding fluxweed to the potion from yesterday, Hermione? I didn't really get that part."

Hermione's expression immediately shifted into teacher mode and Harry almost let out a sigh of relief. Ron looked at him in disbelief, mouthing something along the lines of "Are you crazy?", then stalked ahead of them down the hall, trying not to listen.

Breakfast went by without a hitch. Harry only took one glance at the head table to see Snape resolutely ignoring him. Dumbledore caught his eye, however, and Harry began to feel slightly ashamed for disappointing him in his hopes. It wasn't really his fault though. And it wasn't like Dumbledore could expect some great relationship to bloom overnight. Harry moved his eggs around on the plate, finding he'd lost his appetite.

The rest of the day passed quickly and Harry even managed a quick, and thankfully dreamless, nap in History of Magic. He surprised Hermione by finishing all his assigned essays early in the evening, then excused himself to his room.

Sitting on his bed, he took out the Occlumency book from the library. His lesson with Snape was tomorrow, and Harry had a few memories he would very much like to keep private after the summer he'd experienced. He wondered briefly why he didn't insist they wait a few weeks to start, but he didn't want to chance the request now. Snape could change his mind and refuse to teach him all together.

Harry thumbed through a few introductory sections, skimming the historical information until he arrived at the more practical. He let out a relieved "Thank Merlin" when he found a paragraph discussing ways to clear his mind. A lot of the options involved intense meditation, which Harry knew would never work for him. At least not on such short notice and with so much on his mind. Finally he came across a method of visualization. Reading it now, it seemed so obvious to Harry. Just imagine a landscape and place yourself in it. The example in the book was a beach, but Harry had never been to the ocean, so that wouldn't work. Hogwarts had too many memories for him, as did Privet Drive. He considered the park in Little Whinging, but Dudley would inevitably turn up in that one.

Harry realized with a start that almost everywhere he'd been had some kind of bad memory attached to it. In the end, Harry settled for visualizing himself in the field behind the Burrow. It was simple enough, but he was able to recall the feeling of a breeze on his face and the sound of the wind blowing through the grass. He lay on his bed, building up the scene and trying to think of nothing else. Then he tried with his eyes open, which was slightly more difficult, but must have worked because by the time he finished, the rest of the boys were in bed and the room was dark, none of which Harry had noticed.

He put the book away, hoping it would be enough, but severely doubting it. It wouldn't help to turn up for the lesson after a sleepless night though. Harry settled under the covers, falling into a blissfully dream-free sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Disturbances

Chapter 6

The following day passed entirely too quickly for Harry's liking. He was nervously fidgeting next to Hermione in potions, despite the looks she kept shooting him. It was hard to concentrate on anything except Snape at the moment. The man had taken his usual sweep around the classroom to observe their progress and had settled back at his desk to grade essays for the time being.

Harry watched the furrow in Snape's brow as he crossed something violently out on the parchment, a bit of red ink flying. Harry hoped it wasn't his essay. He had put a lot of effort into his homework and thought he'd actually done fairly well this time. Hermione's face had lit up with a terrifying grin when he again agreed to accompany her to the library the day before. He used several potions texts to aid in his assignment and surprisingly found himself rather intrigued. It made him wish he had tried harder in potions the previous years, but Snape's antagonism hardly inspired much effort from him. Maybe Snape would be more inclined to attempt some sort of relationship if Harry showed an interest in potions?

Harry shook off the ridiculous thought. He felt disgusted at his neediness. He'd been doing fine without a father his entire life, there was no point in having one now. Especially one that didn't even want him.

"Potter!" Harry jumped, cursing himself for spacing out. Snape stood in front of him, somehow more menacing than ever.

"Yes, sir?" Harry was extremely grateful his voice came out steadily. He could see Draco smirking out of the corner of his eye.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for not paying attention and endangering your classmates. As I have already mentioned, I will not tolerate anything less than extreme focus."

"Yes, professor." Harry met the black eyes briefly, then looked away.

"Return here for detention tonight. 8 o'clock sharp. For every minute you are tardy, you will receive another detention." With that, Snape abruptly turned and dismissed the rest of the class.

Harry let out a breath, knowing his face was red from embarrassment. Malfoy bumped against him on his way out, causing Harry to spill some of the potion he was attempting to bottle. He managed to keep it off himself, watching as a few drops fizzled against the wood of the desk.

Hermione glared at Malfoy's back and helped Harry clean up the rest, muttering about immaturity. They headed out of the classroom and Harry refrained from looking back at Snape. He knew there needed to be a reason for Snape to see Harry tonight in case anyone noticed, but it still bothered him to have the man treat him like that. His heart sank a bit when he realized that this would be continuing for the next two years and Harry started to wonder if he could handle it. Maybe he should drop potions. Did he even want to be an auror anymore?

His thoughts were interrupted when Ron started talking about Fred and George's latest ventures with the joke shop as they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner.

"They've loads of new products we could test on Malfoy," Ron grinned wickedly at Harry.

Harry nodded, smiling back, then glanced at his watch. Two hours until he had to meet with Snape. He was feeling decidedly nauseous.

* * *

Snape sat at his desk, attempting to grade essays from his NEWT class. He realized he'd been reading the same sentence repeatedly and still had no idea what it said. He pushed away the parchment and rubbed his temples. Potter, no Harry, would be here soon and he wasn't sure what to think anymore. Though he hoped the boy had managed at least some miniscule amount of improvement from last year, part of him wished to view the memories again. Pay more attention this time and maybe discover more about his home life.

There was a knock on the door and Snape waved it open, collecting the essays and vanishing them to his office in the adjoining room.

"Come in."

Harry slipped in, carefully closing the door and approached the front of the room. Snape gestured towards the chair he'd placed in front of the desk, and warded the door.

"Mr. Potter." Harry flinched slightly at the name, but Snape continued, "Seeing as we both would prefer these lessons to be more successful than those of last year, I would like to discuss a few things with you first."

Harry nodded, finally meeting Snape's gaze.

"First of all, you have an obvious lack of ability to clear your mind," Snape paused as he saw Harry's frown. He forced out his next words, "Which, is a highly difficult task for many." Harry's eyes widened in surprise and Snape rolled his own. "That being said, I believe we should take another approach. I was informed by the Headmaster that you have checked out a book on Occlumency from the library."

"Er, yes, sir. I've been practicing the visualization method it mentioned."

"Good. I want you to visualize the landscape you have been practicing with now, then I will attempt to enter your mind."

Harry squirmed a bit, obviously nervous, then closed his eyes. Snape watched as the boy's face slowly relaxed. He wondered briefly if it would be easier to look at him without those bloody glasses that were so much like what James Potter had worn.

He waited another minute, then raised his wand. "Potter." The boy's eyes opened to meet his own. "Legilimens."

He was in a field. Harry was standing several feet away, apparently unaware of his presence. Snape looked to his left and noticed the Weasley home next to him. He studied the landscape, noting every detail, then began to push against Harry's mind, shifting the elements slightly and trying to break down the vision. The ground cracked beneath him and he saw Harry's face twitch in concentration. He pushed harder, ignoring the brief flash of what might have been pride for the boy. The wind picked up and clouds darkened the sky as the ground continued to break up around them. Then suddenly a house elf appeared in front of Harry. Snape watched as Harry looked down at the elf who was bouncing anxiously back and forth, wringing it's hands.

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!" The elf let out a little squeal then vanished.

Both Harry and Snape turned to their right as another figure approached. Snape looked back at Harry to see he was seated at a desk from the Divination classroom, Weasley holding a teacup next to him. The figure formed into Trelawney who grabbed the cup from Ron's grasp, gasping in horror.

"The Grim! Oh my dear boy!" Her wide eyes looked straight into Harry's, "Death!"

The table morphed while Weasley and Trelawney vanished. The landscape around them was slowly fading, stone walls building around them. Harry was sitting in a chair and Snape recognized the Defense office.

"Constant Vigilance, Potter!" Moody hovered over Harry as his face twitched and transformed into that of Barty Crouch. Blood ran down Harry's leg.

Harry was thrown out of his chair and into a wall. A large lumbering boy laughed, pushing past him. "Better be careful Harry, or dad might lock you in the cupboard."

The whale of a boy grew into an even larger man and it looked as if they were in a muggle kitchen now. Harry was standing in front of the red-faced man, and Snape noted the fear in his eyes. He let out a grunt of fury and took a step forward as the man punched Harry, knocking him violently to the ground. Before he could witness anymore, Snape felt himself being pushed out of the boy's mind and back into the classroom.

Harry sat on the floor, taking rattling breaths, a sheen of sweat and Snape thought maybe tears on his face.

"Was that your uncle, Potter?" Snape tried to keep his voice calm.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to gather himself, then shook his head. "No, I can't. No."

Snape wondered how far to push the boy. He looked as if he might break down any moment.

"Harry."

"No!" Green eyes snapped open, anger and fear directed at Snape. "I don't have to tell you anything. We agreed. You don't want to be my father and we both know you don't care about me, so don't pretend it matters."

Harry grabbed his wand from the floor and fled out the door before Snape could respond.

Snape sat back on the desk, sighing. The problem, he finally accepted, was that he did care. More than he knew possible. The sight of Harry lying on the floor of that kitchen had sent waves of anger through Snape. He might not know how to deal with a relationship with his...son, but there was no way in hell he would allow the boy to be sent back to his relatives ever again.

Snape stood, making a decision. He would speak with Harry tomorrow. He didn't want to ignore it anymore, he had made a mistake. He just hoped the boy would still want to try.

* * *

Harry left the potions classroom, trying to keep the tears from escaping. How could he be so stupid? Of course Snape would make it past his shield or whatever the visualization mind thing was called.

He couldn't stand the idea of Snape attempting to care. It would just be out of some sense of duty. He had already been forced on one family that didn't want him, he wouldn't be a burden and a shame to Snape as well.

Harry strode down the dungeon corridor, shoving his wand in his pocket and running his hands through his hair. He started as something moved in the shadows of his peripheral. Before he could retrieve his wand he felt his limbs stiffen in a body bind and he toppled to the ground.

"You should have listened to my warning, Potter. I told you to watch yourself." Shining black shoes and the bottoms of gray slacks came into Harry's view. He heard a disillusionment charm and felt a cold trickle fall over him as he was levitated upwards, coming face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"Tut tut, Scarhead. All the better for me, I suppose." Malfoy smirked and started up a staircase with Harry floating behind.

"You know, this was much easier than I had anticipated. The Dark Lord will be very pleased." Harry's heart sank as Malfoy continued to prattle on triumphantly. He had hoped, but not really believed, this was just some schoolboy prank. He tried to calm down. He needed to think of a plan. If Malfoy was delivering him to Voldemort, he needed to be ready. He felt a bit hysterical and probably would have laughed if he hadn't been in a body bind. Even if he was going willingly, with a plan, he still wouldn't be ready. There was no way he could expect to defeat Voldemort. He was going to die. And it was probably going to hurt.

Harry realized Malfoy had turned twice now, walking back and forth in front of a wall. After the third time, a door appeared and Harry wondered if it could be that easy. Just ask the Room of Requirement to transport Voldemort to them?

They entered, Malfoy still smiling happily, and Harry noted they were in a room overflowing with objects. He took in brief glances of books piled several stories high, a grouping of mannequin heads, several shoes of different sizes, and other odd objects he didn't recognize as Malfoy led him into the room. He stopped in front of a large cabinet, grin widening.

"You'll be a nice surprise for Aunt Bella. I'm sure she'll have some fun before turning you over to the Dark Lord."

He opened the door and floated Harry inside, then paused, eyes cold, still grinning. "I'm only sorry I won't be there to see you die, Potter." With that, he shut the cabinet. Harry waited, not sure what would happen, then heard Malfoy's voice again.

"_Emetior Locus_."

Harry felt a sudden pull on his entire body, as if he were being wrenched backwards. It stopped as suddenly as it began and he fell hard against the bottom of the cabinet, Malfoy's bind no longer active. He shifted into a crouched position, rubbing the kink forming in his neck, and put an ear to the wood. It was silent at first, then Harry heard foot steps approaching and a muffled, high-pitched voice.

"Ooo, has Draco sent me a present?"

Harry froze, recognizing the shrill voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. He pulled out his wand, thankful Malfoy was too caught up in his ego to disarm him. He knew Bellatrix could easily out duel him. He went through his options, trying to push down the rising panic. The footsteps were closer now, almost upon him.

He pointed his wand at himself, not stopping to consider the consequences, and whispered, "_Finite Incantatum_."

His skin prickled as a ripple passed over his body. His vision blurred considerably and it took a moment for Harry to realize he didn't need his glasses now. He tore them off his face and dropped them in the corner as the door to the cabinet swung open. Harry looked up into the confused face of Bellatrix.

"Who're you?"

Harry didn't bother to answer, using her moment of surprise to send a stunning spell right at her chest. She fell backwards with a thud and Harry pulled the cabinet closed.

"_Emetior Locus_."

Nothing happened. Harry swore, opening the door again and climbing out. He looked down at Bellatrix, passed out on the floor. His spell had obviously worked since she hadn't recognized him. He felt drained and wondered how much casting it had taken out of him.

He walked to the window, glancing out from the side to see he was on the second floor of a building over a very dark and dirty street. He saw light coming from further up the way and recognized the path through to Diagon Alley. That must mean he was in Knockturn Alley. Wonderful. He hadn't ever planned on returning to the place, especially alone and at night. But he supposed it was better than being in the company of Voldemort.

He looked back to the witch on the floor. She would report back to Voldemort what happened and Draco would inform him that he'd sent Harry Potter through. They'd connect the dots, know what he looked like now, which would inevitably lead to Snape being discovered and most likely killed. He gripped his wand, thinking. If Bellatrix didn't know what happened, then they could just assume that Harry had either escaped or had been transported somewhere else and no one would be able to identify him in his current state.

There were a lot of holes in that plan, but Harry figured Dumbledore could sort out the rest if it worked. And he managed to make it back to Hogwarts.

He placed a bind on Bellatrix, then readied himself. He didn't doubt she'd be able to break it eventually. He'd never cast a memory charm, but they had discussed them extensively in charms near the end of the previous year. Hopefully, that would be enough.

"_Ennervate_."

Bellatrix's eyes snapped open and Harry saw her recognition of the bind and immediate twitching of fingers. He raised his wand again.

"_Obliviate_."

The sensation was strange. He never lost sight of the room he was in, but he began to see the events moving backwards through Bellatrix's eyes as she rose from the floor, to the sight of a boy in the cabinet, door closing, then moving backwards out of the room and down the stairs to a sitting room where she lowered herself onto a chair. Harry cut off the spell and blinked. Bellatrix was sitting confused in front of him and he immediately stunned her again, then levitated her slowly down the stairs and back to the table she had been sitting at earlier.

He turned towards the door, extreme fatigue settling over him. The more advanced magic was taking its toll. Noticing a dark cloak by the door, he grabbed it off the hook and swung it around his shoulders. Pulling the hood up over his head, he opened the door slowly. It creaked and he froze as he realized there was someone standing right outside. They turned to face him and Harry caught a glimpse of Lucius Malfoy's face before he slammed the door and ran back the way he'd come, making for a doorway next to the stairs.

He heard the door fly open behind him and a curse hit the wall to his left, the air sizzling next to his face. He darted through the doorway into what he guessed was a kitchen. He sent a disarming spell over his shoulder as he sped around a table, trying to keep his hood from falling while careening through several chairs.

The table he'd just maneuvered around screeched to the side as Harry turned the corner through another doorway. He saw a door at the end of a hall and sprinted towards it. Another curse brushed past his shoulder and collided with the wall ahead of him, causing it to crumble. He burst through the door before it could give way and stumbled out into a back street. He took off to the right, hoping it would take him to Diagon Alley. He reached the end of the building and scrambled to round the corner at a full sprint, feet slipping on the stone. He felt a sharp pain in his side and cried out, but kept going.

Each further step sent waves of agony up his side. He reached a hand inside the cloak and pressed it underneath his ribs. It was wet. He drew out his hand and saw it was covered in blood.

He blocked several curses as he continued to run, taking as many turns as possible. He sent a few back, but knew they wouldn't have as much power behind them as he needed.

He finally emerged on a street he recognized. Hagrid had found him here second year. He turned left and tore up the cobblestones, emerging onto the familiar streets of Diagon Alley. He almost sobbed in relief and ran towards the Leaky Cauldron. The curses had stopped coming and Harry hoped that meant Lucius had given up. He burst through the doors of the pub, thankful the place was busy enough that only a few customers glanced his way. He made his way to the fireplace, remembering other wizards using it freely in the past. He knew he wouldn't be able to floo into Hogwarts, but he should be able to get to Hogsmeade.

He took some powder, throwing it in the fireplace and stepped in without hesitation.

"Hogsmeade!"

Harry saw a blonde head pushing through the crowd as the green flame swept him away. He fell, coughing, out of the floo into an equally busy Three Broomsticks. He picked himself up, pulling the hood further over his head, and made his way through the room to the door. His breaths were becoming more painful and his vision was starting to blur. He could feel blood soaking most of his shirt now, as well as the top part of his trousers.

He limped as quickly as he could towards the Shrieking Shack, praying he'd be able to make it past the Whomping Willow. He stumbled through the old house and dropped into the passage, leaning heavily against the wall of dirt. He dropped to his knees with a groan, and dragged himself forward. The cloak caught on a root and Harry shrugged it off, too tired to try and untangle it. After what felt like hours, he pulled himself up through the hole in the tree and reached around for the knot. He held it there and scrambled around in the dirt with his other hand until he found what he hoped was a suitably heavy rock. Placing it on top of the knot, he crept forward, ready to make a run for it, but knowing he'd probably just collapse.

Thankfully the rock worked and Harry continued slowly up the lawn to the castle. This was probably the first time he actually hoped to run into a professor after curfew. He made it to the side entrance and stumbled down the hall, looking around. The infirmary was on the other side of the castle, up several flights of stairs, as was Dumbledore's office. Harry took the corridor heading down to the left.

He passed through the dungeons in a daze, vaguely wondering if he had died and come back as a ghost since all he could feel now was the cold. He shivered violently as he passed the potions classroom and arrived at the door to Snape's office. He lifted his hand and tried to knock loudly, but he wasn't sure if it worked. Everything was swimming in front of him. He leaned against the door and let out a soft sob.

"I don't want to be a ghost," Harry mumbled into the door just as it pulled sharply away from him. He collapsed into a heap on the ground and let the darkness take him.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I appreciate all the faves, follows and reviews! Thank you all!

* * *

Disturbances

Chapter 7

Snape was sitting in his office, staring blankly at the wall, when a weak knock sounded at the door. Glancing up at the clock, he noted it was well after curfew. He also realized he'd been sitting at the desk for several hours and had yet to grade a single essay. After Harry had fled, he couldn't seem to focus on anything besides the memories he'd witnessed.

He approached the door, praying it wasn't Thornback renewing his efforts, and pulled it open. He heard something mumbled as a body collapsed face-down at his feet from the other side. It was a boy wearing what appeared to be a blood-soaked school jumper and slacks. Dark, smooth hair covered his head and Snape bent down to carefully turn the boy onto his back, wand raised.

He didn't recognize the student, noting the Gryffindor maroon and gold lining his collar. He frowned, aware of the possibility of an intruder in disguise. He carefully placed his fingers to the boy's wrist, finding a sluggish pulse. Even if it was an intruder, they wouldn't be conscious anytime soon and were in very real danger of death. Snape summoned a blood replenishing potion from his stores and spelled it into the boy's stomach. He lifted the boy in his arms, trying to be gentle as a groan escaped. He took a step towards the fireplace, planning on flooing to the Hospital Wing, when the boy's hair fell back from his forehead. Snape froze, eyes wide. A lightning bolt scar stood out starkly against the pale skin.

Snape swallowed, staring at the scar, then headed away from the fire. He flicked his wand and one of the many bookcases swung open revealing a small hallway ending in a door. It flew open as Snape approached and he stepped into his living quarters. He set the boy on the couch and fire called the Headmaster.

"Albus, I have an injured student in my quarters. Please bring Poppy immediately."

He pulled his head out before Dumbledore could reply and turned back to the boy. His son? Snape couldn't seem to process the information. He felt a ball of fear roiling in his stomach. The fire roared green and Dumbledore stepped out, followed by the Mediwitch. Snape leaned over the boy on the couch, spelling away his shirt and examining the large gash across his right abdomen.

"Severus, what happened?" Poppy knelt next to him, inspecting the wound.

"Dark magic," he murmured, turning to Pomfrey. "I've seen this used before. It's a variation on the cutting jinx that Lucius created. It won't stop bleeding without the counter-curse."

"Do you know the counter, Severus?" Dumbledore questioned, worry lining his face. Snape didn't answer, instead standing and striding over to a bookcase. He grabbed a book off the top shelf and flipped furiously through the pages, eyes scanning quickly.

Poppy continued to mutter charms over the wound, attempting to at least slow the bleeding, but nothing seemed to work.

Snape stopped at a page and grunted. He approached the boy, raising his wand, and began incanting a long string of words over the gash. Slowly the bleeding ceased and the wound began to close, skin knitting itself back together. Snape stopped speaking and lowered his wand, hand shaking as he shut the book and dropped it to the ground. The boy's skin was pale and his breaths shallow, but Snape knew he would recover.

He allowed Pomfrey to take over, stepping backwards and running a hand over his face. Robes rustled next to him and he felt a hand placed on his shoulder.

"I made sure to find the counter after the first time I saw Lucius use the spell. I figured I might need to use it on myself one day." Snape continued to stare at the boy.

Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder, "Severus, am I correct in assuming that this is Harry?"

"I'm not sure. I believe so. He showed up at my office door and immediately passed out. I had no opportunity to ask questions."

Dumbledore made a small hum in reply. Snape was about to shrug the hand off his shoulder when Dumbledore removed it himself and began stroking his beard.

"He looks like you Severus."

Snape tensed, choosing to ignore the observation he had already made himself. "We need to find out what happened to him. That curse was no doubt Lucius' work. If he or anyone else saw Harry like this, my duties as spy may soon be over."

"Yes, that is indeed a possibility. However, I hardly think Harry would be able to give us much information just yet. We will let him rest through the night and I'll return in the morning to figure this out."

"Of course, Albus," Snape replied, watching Poppy spell another blood replenisher into Harry.

The hand returned to his shoulder and Snape turned back to the Headmaster. "Do not be afraid to care for Harry, Severus. He is your son and he needs you."

Dumbledore offered one last smile then headed over to Poppy. He brushed a gentle hand over Harry's forehead as Poppy rose, informing Snape of which potions Harry would need later that night. They turned to the floo, leaving with a final glance back at Harry.

Snape watched the green flames die down, then stiffly approached the couch and looked down at the boy. He slowly examined the features of his son's face, finding himself in the slant of the brow and eyes. The cheekbones were more defined now, resembling his own as well as Lily's. Before Snape realized, his hand was carding through Harry's hair. It was the same color as his own, smooth and slightly longer than before.

Snape pulled his hand away, taking a deep breath. Merlin, he didn't know what he was doing. He wasn't a parent. He sat heavily on the chair next to the sofa and laid his head back.

Hours later, Snape was startled awake by a low moan. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, seeing the clock on his mantle at half past three. Another moan sounded and Snape realized what had roused him. Harry lay tangled in the blanket Snape had placed on him earlier, face drawn in pain.

Snape rose from his chair, joints protesting the awkward position he'd been in, and knelt down next to Harry.

The boy whimpered and Snape placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder. He pulled it away when Harry immediately cried out and turned away from him, curling into a ball against the back of the sofa. Snape sucked in a breath as he saw Harry's back. It was covered in angry red welts and fading bruises. Why hadn't Poppy's scans uncovered this?

He summoned a jar of murtlap from his stores, figuring it would be best to apply the cream with Harry still asleep. He stopped his whimpering and Snape hoped whatever nightmare that haunted him had passed. He slowly applied the cream with gentle hands, careful not to wake the boy. Harry's tense muscles relaxed as Snape continued to rub in the murtlap.

Snape finished, banished the cream, and sat back on the floor. He clenched his hands, anger coursing through him. He recognized the marks. Someone had beat Harry with a belt, and Snape had no doubt as to who it was. He had always felt protective of the boy, for Lily's sake, but the feeling increased, almost overwhelming Snape. His son had been hurt and Snape wanted to make that disgusting whale of a man pay. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Thinking of revenge was easier than considering how he would talk to Harry about this.

He thought back to their conversation the other evening. He had basically told the boy he didn't want him, and he had believed that, for Harry's sake and his own. But the idea of Harry being placed in someone else's care bothered him deeply. It was his job to take care of his son. No one else. The fierceness of the thought surprised Snape.

He picked himself up off the floor and returned to his chair. He didn't know what he would say to Harry in the morning, but he knew a lack of sleep would not help.

* * *

Harry woke slowly, his thoughts sluggish. He blinked a few times, reaching for his glasses, then paused. He could see clearly and he definitely wasn't in Gryffindor tower. It all came back to him at once and Harry bolted upright. Sitting directly in front of him was Snape who appeared to have just woken himself from Harry's rapid movement. He watched as Snape straightened and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The action was so normal that Harry began to wonder if he was dreaming.

His heart slowed and he realized there was an strong ache in his side. He glanced down to see a scar across his stomach and his panic returned. He looked up to Snape with wide eyes.

"Malfoy kidnapped me! Draco, I mean. Not Lucius. He was there too though."

The words seemed to bring Snape to full alertness. He narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"What memory did you see in my pensieve last year?"

The question surprised Harry. "Erm, my father and his friends playing a prank on you." Harry's face turned red as he spoke, feeling awkward to be speaking of it again.

Snape nodded and his expression softened. "Alright. Now you may explain what happened to you last night."

Harry stuttered a bit, then managed to relate the story to Snape. He finished and watched as Snape sat in deep concentration, a frown drawn across his face. Harry looked around the room for the first time, noting it was very nice and rather cozy.

"Are these your rooms?"

Snape blinked, coming out of his thoughts, then glared at him. "Yes. And you will tell no one about them."

Harry nodded quickly and picked at a string on the blanket draped over his legs. Did Snape put it there?

He looked up again as Snape addressed him. "You did very well, Harry."

Harry's mouth fell open a little and he couldn't figure out what to say. Snape outright complimented him. He was definitely still dreaming.

He cleared his throat, noticing Snape watching him. "Thanks, sir. Er, did you fix my-?" He waved awkwardly at his side.

"Yes. I am familiar with that particular curse Lucius used on you."

"Oh, well, thanks."

They sat in silence and Harry continued to twist the blanket between his fingers, unsure what to do. Snape appeared to be studying him with a blank look on his face. It made Harry uncomfortable and he shifted in his seat.

"Harry," Snape's voice was softer than usual and he seemed to be struggling for words. "I have taken more time to consider the situation, and I believe I made a poor choice earlier. I would like to try...this."

Harry was not expecting the confession. He assumed Snape still disliked him, even if he had been a bit more accommodating lately.

"You mean, being father and s-son?"

Snape gave a tight nod. He held his usual composure except for a finger tapping erratically on his knee.

Harry stared openly, trying to wrap his mind around the situation. He hadn't given any real consideration to the option after Snape turned him down before. Did he want this? He had said as much earlier, but now that it was being offered, he wasn't sure. Did he want Snape for a father? He continued to stare at the man's tapping finger. Snape was obviously nervous if he allowed the tick to show. And if he was nervous for Harry's answer, perhaps that meant he actually cared.

"Okay." The word came out before Harry realized, but he found he didn't want to take it back.

Snape's finger stopped moving and Harry saw a small amount of relief in his eyes. Harry gave him a hesitant smile and almost died of shock when Snape returned what might have been a slight upward twitch of his lips.

"So, what happens now?"

Snape abruptly gathered his usual composure. "We will meet with the Headmaster and discuss what to do." He met Harry's gaze, "You know this means you will no longer be Harry Potter? You will have to take on a new name and you will not be able to tell anyone who you are. Including your friends. At least not right away."

Harry paused. He had already thought of it, but the reality began to sink in. He probably wouldn't be in Gryffindor anymore. He took a deep breath.

"Yes, I know. It's-I'll be fine."

Snape observed him a few seconds longer before nodding and rising from his seat. He disappeared through a door and returned a minute later with a tray of food and vials. He set the tray on a small table next to Harry that appeared out of nowhere, and picked up the vials.

"These will help with the pain and there's also a pepper-up. This will most likely be a long conversation with the headmaster."

"Thank you, sir." Harry took the potions, feeling awkward. The whole situation was strange. Snape had brought him breakfast on a tray and gave him potions to make him feel better. And he hadn't made any biting comments. Instead he was opting for watching Harry very closely with an expression Harry couldn't interpret.

Then Harry realized he had no idea what he looked like. He'd seen a brief glimpse of himself from Bellatrix's point of view during the obliviation, but he was too focused on casting the spell to have taken in any details. He looked at the hand holding a piece of toast from the breakfast tray. It was paler than normal and the fingers a tad longer. He stared, hand hovering over his plate. He didn't even know the back of his own hand. He chuckled nervously and he set the toast back down, no longer hungry.

"You might feel better if you eat something."

Harry jumped a little at Snape's words, but picked up the glass of pumpkin juice hoping that might go down more easily. The fire flared green and Dumbledore stepped into the room, smiling jovially.

"Good morning, Severus. And you as well, Mr. Snape."

Harry's eye twitched as he swallowed the juice wrong and started coughing. He returned the glass to the tray, pretending not to notice Snape's pointed look.

Dumbledore pulled one of the armchairs closer and sat down, still smiling at the two of them. "I assume young Harry has already told his tale to you Severus?" Snape nodded in affirmation and repeated back a shortened version to the headmaster while Harry tried to discreetly examine his nose, hoping desperately it was nothing like Snape's.

"Ah yes, well done Harry," Dumbledore turned to face him as Snape finished, "That is an impressive bit of magic to perform under such circumstances."

"Thank you, sir." Harry blushed under the praise and glanced at Snape who was still regarding him with an expressionless face. "What's going to happen with Draco?" Harry asked, drawing his attention away from Snape.

"It will be better to have Draco here in order to keep a close eye on him. As far as the Malfoys are concerned, you were delivered through the vanishing cabinet to Knockturn Alley and escaped. Lucius Malfoy did not see your face after you removed the charm, correct?"

"No, I'm fairly sure he didn't. I had a hooded cloak on at the time."

"Excellent. However, that will mean you cannot return to school as Harry Potter." Dumbledore watched Harry carefully. "It is too dangerous for you here under that appearance. I have no doubt Draco will make further attempts to carry out Voldemort's orders." Harry nodded, knowing this was coming, but still feeling extremely nervous.

"Right, sir. So, what does that mean? What's going to happen now?"

Dumbledore clapped his hands together in what Harry thought was an inappropriate amount of glee. "Not to worry, Harry. I've already drawn up all the paperwork and planted the evidence of your supposed past life should anyone decide to look into this further, as I'm sure some will." He waved his wand and a pile of parchment and quill appeared in front of them.

"You have been living in a small village in the Swiss Alps for most of your life with your mother and grandparents. No siblings, of course. You did not attend any wizarding school and were instead tutored by Tybalt Reinhard, a highly intelligent, though slightly eccentric I might say, wizard." Harry wondered just how eccentric the wizard had to be to gain that opinion from Dumbledore. "He is a dear friend of mine and already agreed to keep up this façade of ours. And yes, Severus, he is a skilled Occlumens. No one will be able to wheedle any information out of him. He is quite stubborn," Dumbledore chuckled lightly.

Harry sat wide-eyed, watching Dumbledore rattle on happily, very much enjoying himself. He wondered if the man made a habit of creating identities for people.

"I have already slipped the documents for the property under your supposed family's name into the ministry archives and created a paper trail of information going back several generations. Your grandparents passed away three years ago, one month apart, and your mother just recently passed from a rather unfortunate potions accident. Thus, you have decided to locate your father. And here we are!"

Harry blinked, overwhelmed by the information. "Er, I think I'll have to go over that a few more times."

"Of course! There are many more details for you. I'll leave all the information here. But first we must decide upon a name for yourself. The documents are charmed to react to the writing on this one I've brought here. So, what will it be?" Dumbledore looked between the two of them. Snape had an irritated look on his face, obviously annoyed by the Headmaster's cheerful disposition.

"Um, I don't know?" Harry wasn't feeling particularly creative at the moment. He was too busy trying to contain the panic that had been threatening him for the past several days.

Snape stared at him for a moment. "Donovan. It's an old family name."

Harry thought about it for a minute, nodding. He actually rather liked it. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore scratched the name on the parchment and Harry caught a glimpse of 'Severus' added for his middle name. He figured that was logical, though it was startling to see written.

Dumbledore filled them in on several more details, making sure Harry new the names of his grandparents and parents. As well as the village in which he had resided.

"Now, for Severus' safety, we will say that he was unaware of your existence. Voldemort would not take kindly to such information being kept from him," Dumbledore's tone became serious. "There is also the difficulty of timing. I have an acquaintance working for the Daily Prophet. It will be no trouble to slip to him that Harry has been relocated for training purposes. We will also make an announcement to the school and inform Harry's friends of his departure."

Harry felt a twinge of sadness, knowing he hadn't even been able to tell them goodbye. Sure, he'd still see them, but he wouldn't be able to talk to them. Harry Potter truly was leaving, he realized. He was Donovan Snape now.

"It would appear suspicious to have Donovan arrive right after Harry has left. So I will make sure Harry Potter is seen in various places by the right people for the next few weeks."

"Perhaps a few photos can be slipped to your Prophet acquaintance?" Snape suggested.

"Yes, wonderful! That should help immensely. Now, I believe you have several classes today, Severus? Harry will have to remain in your rooms for the time being and we will introduce him to the school on Monday. I will make the announcement at dinner this evening of Harry Potter's departure and call his friends to my office this afternoon. Do either of you have any questions for me?"

Harry had quite a number of questions, but couldn't put most of them into words. "Will I be sorted?"

"We will say you were sorted in my office. For your own safety as well as that of Severus, I think Slytherin will be the best place for you. I do recall you telling me the hat wanted to place you there initially?"

Harry nodded, feeling grim and saw Snape's jerk of surprise. What would Snape have done if he'd let the hat place him in Slytherin to begin with? He pictured Snape at the opening feast his first year, fainting from shock. The thought almost made Harry laugh.

"Wonderful. Now, I must finish up a few things before tonight." Dumbledore rose from his seat and threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Donovan!" And with that his vanished into the flames, leaving Harry and Snape in an awkward silence.

Snape cleared his throat, getting up from his chair. "I have a full day of classes. The house elves will deliver your meals here. You are welcome to read any books from those shelves," he gestured towards a wall next to the fireplace. "I'll also have your things brought down here so you can finish your schoolwork. You are not to leave my rooms and please refrain from entering my personal lab." He stared hard at Harry, as if he figured the request would be in vain. "I won't return until after dinner. I hope you can manage to stay out of trouble until then." His voice wasn't nearly as harsh as it usually was when lecturing Harry. He paused, looking a bit disgruntled. "The potions you had should last through the day, however, if you experience any further pain, please floo call my office and I will fetch you more."

With that, Snape grabbed his outer robe and headed towards the door, avoiding Harry's stare.

"Thank you," Harry called out as Snape pulled open the door. He paused, nodded briefly, then left.

Harry sat staring at the closed door. He had only been at Hogwarts for a week and his whole life had changed course. Harry rose slowly, deciding he needed to find a mirror. The first room he checked looked to be Snape's bedroom. Harry quickly shut the door, not wanting the man to think he'd been snooping. The door just to the right revealed a small, but rather nice bathroom with a large bathtub.

Harry stepped inside and peered into the mirror. Despite knowing he would look different, it was still a shock. A total stranger stared back at him, except for the emerald green eyes. His hair was straight, almost to his chin. He felt a little relieved that it lacked the greasiness of Snape's, which made him wonder if perhaps hovering over potions all day was the cause of the man's issue instead of genetics. He was also very happy to see his nose, though longer, was nothing compared to Snape's. He had to admit there was no question as to who his father was however.

He turned away from the mirror, feeling extremely tired. Returning to the couch, he pulled the blanket up around himself and lay staring at the ceiling. Everything was different now and he could never go back to how it was before. The loss hit him suddenly and his eyes began to water. He blinked rapidly, holding back the feeling. This was his life now and crying wouldn't help anything. He'd learned that a long time ago. He took several deep breaths, calming down slightly. At least he would never have to return to the Dursleys's again. The thought sent waves of relief through him. He had a real family now and even if Snape wasn't particularly nice, at least he took care of him.

Harry began to drift off, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. He briefly realized his back didn't hurt at all anymore, but fell quickly into sleep before he could consider it further.


End file.
